Time of the Rabbit
by words.my.voice
Summary: The curse has broken and life goes on. But perhaps for Momiji, a new stage is just beginning. Momiji/OC
1. Chapter 1 The Sleeping Girl

_Done._

Momiji flipped his finished test over, placed his pencil down on the desk, stretched, and yawned. He loved the relaxed feeling of being done with a test, the sense of freedom that came with knowing that he didn't have to worry anymore. At least until the next one.

Glancing up at the clock as he picked up his pencil again, Momiji started doodling rabbits on the back of his test. Rabbits were his favorite animals _2:45, it's 2:45 on a Tuesday_, he sang in his head. Momiji often sang. And drew rabbits. His classmate would occasionally shoot him a look in the halls for his odd behavior, but Momiji didn't really care. He did what he enjoyed, even if it meant acting half his age. Anyway, the other students had come to take his quirks in stride now that they were in their last year of high school.

_Just five minutes to go!_ Momiji thought as he tipped his head backwards to look at the clock on the back wall. Suddenly, something strange caught his eye.

A girl was lying with her head flat on the desk, fast asleep. Students would occasionally nod off slightly during long lectures, but no one had ever completely fallen asleep in the middle of class. Especially not during a test. What was more; Momiji didn't even recognize the girl.

Momiji turned around to get a better look at her. It took him a second to remember that she had just started at the school after summer break and had kept mostly to herself, not making any friends. She had ash blond hair that was strewn across the desk, obscuring her face and the test she should have been taking.

The sound of a chair scrapping against the floor made Momiji whip back around to face forward. The teacher had stood up and had her eyes on the sleeping girl too. Momiji held his breath as the teacher began to meander slowly up the aisle between desks. Ms. Ueda was a good teacher but known for being strict and quick to catch and punish any messing about in her class. Momiji hoped she wouldn't be too hard on the new girl. It was still only her third week at a completely new school after all.

But Ms. Ueda surprised Momiji. Instead of making a big deal about it, she quietly bent down and gently shook the girl's arm to wake her. The girl shifting groggily then sat bolt upright, wildly looking around.

"Oh. Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I—"

"It's alright," Ms. Ueda said so softly that Momiji had to strain to hear. "Just finish your test and I'll talk to you after class."

"Ok. Thank you." As the teacher walked back up the rows of desks the girl sighed and stared dejectedly at her test, pushing her hair out of what Momiji now saw were startlingly green eyes.

The rest of the class had missed the little drama being enacted in the background but it had sparked Momiji's curiosity. What made the girl so tired? Why was Ms. Ueda so relaxed and understanding about it? And why on earth could Momiji not remember the girl's name?

Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya


	2. Chapter 2 Meeting

The next day Momiji started watching for the girl. It surprised him that she was actually in some of his other classes too. As she sat in the back and rarely talked, he had never noticed. Momiji kept half an eye on her for most of the morning but aside from yawning a lot she didn't fall asleep again. A few times he wondered if he should try to talk to her between classes but she left quickly and was gone before he could think of anything to say.

At lunch Momiji sat down at a table with his cousin Haru. Though they were liked by most of the grade, neither of them had many close friends and they had long since resigned themselves to sticking together.

"Hi," Momiji said brightly. He did most things brightly. Other words usually used to describe him included perky, optimistic, and energetic. Momiji was known for having a consistently happy personality.

"Hello," Haru picked at his sandwich in a drowsy manner. Haru was the most laid back person Momiji knew. Only if he was angry would he ever be quick or loud; all other times he moved calmly and easily through life.

Momiji scanned the cafeteria for the mysterious girl. She wasn't there. "Hey. Do you know what the new girl's name is?"

"Hm?" Haru turned to blink at him. "What new girl?"

"The one who moved here after summer break. What's her name?"

"Oh, that girl. She's in my math class. I think she fell asleep once last week. I don't know. She seems kind of shy."

As Momiji munched on his lunch, he watched the sea of students ebb and flow. No new girl. _Oh well_, he thought.

At the end of lunch though, Momiji suddenly remembered a book he had meant to check out so he left Haru for the library. It was there that he found, fast asleep at one of the back tables, surrounded by books and papers, the enigmatic new girl.

OOO

Namie stirred. Someone was tapping her shoulder. She groaned faintly. She didn't want to wake up now that she had finally fallen asleep. Did she really have to get up? Couldn't she sleep for just five more minutes?

The tapping continued. Namie gradually became aware of something stuck to her face. And her pillow had gotten much flatter and harder.

Slowly, Namie opened her eyes. She was at a desk. There were books and papers around her. Her first thought was that she had fallen asleep in class again. She sat up quickly looking around wildly to figure out where she was.

Books. Books were everywhere. The library. _That's right_, she remembered. She had taken her lunch period to try and finish up some homework. She was in the library and there was a boy tapping her on the shoulder.

"Hi," he gave her a wide smile. He was on the tall side, probably at least five inches taller than she was, had messy, yellow blonde hair and bright brown eyes. Namie was pretty sure that he was in some of her classes.

"Sorry to wake you up," he continued in a lively tone. "But lunch is almost over and I didn't think you'd want to sleep right through the bell."

"No," Namie replied in a preoccupied voice, brushing her hair out of her eyes and surveying the mess of papers on the table. "Um, thank you."

There was a pause, then suddenly the boy stuck out a hand. "I'm Momiji Sohma."

Namie blinked at him. "Oh. Namie, Namie Kimura."

Momiji gave her another wide smile. "Nice to meet you." He watched as Namie started to collect all her papers. Suddenly the bell rang and he turned to go to class. But as he began to walk away, Momiji looked back in time to see Namie staring at a sheet of math homework with a somewhat hopeless look on her face. He took two steps back to her side and pointed to the last problem which was still blank.

"It's twelve. It looks unsolvable but you just have to look a little deeper and notice the details. Then you can use the Chain Rule. And you figure out the answer's twelve."

The Namie looked up at him surprised. "Thanks," she said.

"Anytime," smiled Momiji, and he walked off to class whistling.

Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya


	3. Chapter 3 Homework

**My thanks to Nano Kunitachi. I hadn't thought anyone was actually reading my story. :)**

Momiji strode through the halls whistling absentmindedly, using the last minutes of his study hall period to walk to class unhindered by the usual crowd of students. Suddenly he slowed down as he passed a slightly ajar classroom door. Through the window he could see that it was occupied by a teacher talking earnestly to Namie.

Momiji curiously slowed his pace again to practically a stop so that he could listen in.

"—not exactly pleased with the work you've been doing lately," the teacher was saying.

Namie's voice was steady, but Momiji could just hear a slight note of worry underneath the calm. "I know, it's just been… a little hard recently."

"I'm aware of the difficulty," the teacher replied with a sigh. "But really Namie, if your grades continue to drop much more you are going to start to have a serious problem."

"I understand," Namie said softly. "I'll try harder, I promise."

The teacher sighed again and there was a long pause. "I don't know Namie," she finally spoke. "Maybe I should call your father in."

"No!" This time Namie's voice was louder, sharper. "No," she continued hastily. "No, no, no, you don't have to do that! I mean, he's really busy. " Her words took on a note of pleading now. "Please, I'll work harder. I'll bring my grades back up. There's no need to trouble my father with this right now."

"Well alright," conceded the teacher. "I won't call him yet, but if you don't—"

The bell rang, cutting off the teacher's last words and Momiji was reluctantly swept down the hall and away from the door by a flood of students, still wondering about the seemingly endless mysteries surrounded Namie.

OOO

The conversation was also on Namie's mind as she set out her books on the small library table. She _would_ to better, and she planned to spend her lunches in the library until then. Picking up her history homework and scanning the long list of dates and names she was had to memorize, Namie felt her heart sink. How the heck was she supposed to do this? History always fell at the bottom of her priorities and now she was so behind catching up seemed impossible. Namie rested her head in her hands and let out a sigh.

"Sleeping again?" a chipper voice interrupted her thoughts. Namie peered through her fingers to see the boy from the day before, Momiji, grinning at her.

"No," Namie picked up her history homework again. "Just working."

"But it's lunch! Aren't you going to eat something?"

"I'm not hungry," lied Namie, over the slight grumblings of protest that were coming from her stomach. "Besides, I have to get this done before the next class."

She focused on the paper, trying to shut the blond boy out. Instead of leaving her though, Momiji perched himself on the corner of the table. After a minute more of being ignored, he reached out and plucked the paper unceremoniously out of Namie's hands.

"Hey!"

Momiji scanned the paper with an interested expression, quite oblivious to Namie glaring at him. _Who was this guy?_ For someone who Namie didn't know more about than his name, he was astonishingly forward. And friendly. He kept smiling at everything.

As if to prove this thought, Momiji looked up at her again with a thousand watt smile. "Oh this is what you have to do? Well then that's not so bad. Come on, lets go have lunch."

Namie watched him hop off the table, nonplussed. "What? I told you I need to work."

"You'll think better on a full stomach," Momiji shrugged. "Besides, you're in my history class so I can help you."

Namie shot him a doubtful look.

"Unlike some people, I do my homework the night before at home and I've finished the assignment." Namie narrowed her eyes and Momiji grinned again. "Come on, I'm good at history!" When she cast one more hesitant look at the books on the table, Momiji winked and waved the paper still in his hand at her. "Besides, I've still got your homework and if you want it back you'd better come with me to the cafeteria."

Still frowning, Namie could think of no reply to that as she slid her books back into her bag and followed him out the door.

Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya


	4. Chapter 4 Lunch

**Thank you for the support everyone! It means a lot. School has started so I'll probably be updating about once a week. Hope you enjoy!**

Momiji hadn't been kidding. He was great at history. He talked with animated gesticulations and seamlessly connected the names and events into a complex story of cause and effect. Namie sat with Momiji and the boy he had introduced as "my cousin Haru," and frantically tried to scribble down every word.

Momiji paused in his story. Namie glanced up to see him shot a meaningful look at her barely touched sandwich. She sighed and took a bite. Momiji grinned, nicked some of Haru's food, and continued on. By the end of lunch, the entire page of homework had been filled.

Namie picked at the last few bites of her sandwich while Momiji went off whistling to throw away an empty milk carton. She eyed Haru's multicolored hair and punk jewelry with some caution, but he had seemed perfectly friendly so she felt comfortable enough to ask, "Is Momiji always like that?"

Haru's spaced-out gaze focused on her. "Like what?"

"So happy and friendly."

"I s'pose," replied Haru. "He is with us in the family I guess."

"Oh."

Momiji appeared back at their table. "Come on!" he called to them. "Time for class!"

He and Namie waved good-bye to Haru and turned down the hall that lead to their history class.

"So are you and Haru really cousins?" Namie couldn't help asking.

"Yeah," Momiji gave her a quizzical look. "Why?"

"He just seems so different from you."

Momiji was uncharacteristically quiet. "We're not directly related. I think Haru and I are third cousins or second how ever many times removed or something. We've just grown up together in the main house."

"Main house?"

Momiji shifted back and forth as if searching for the right words. "Um, it's just a house my family owns. A bunch of us live there."

"That must be nice to have such a close family."

"Yeah." The reply sounded both wistfulness and bitter, but when Namie glanced at Momiji's face it was impassive.

They reached the classroom door and Momiji swung it open. He turned back to Namie and for a moment she thought he was going to say something more but he only winked at her and said, "I'll bet the teacher will be impressed with your homework."

And she was. Ms. Ueda scanned the page with an approving nod. "Much better Namie. Keep this up on the few tests and you should be alright."

Namie smiled and thanked her. A note landed on her desk with the words _See? ;)_. She looked over her shoulder at Momiji. The solemn mood he had developed when talking about his family had dissolved and he was smiling again. It made her both curious and irked that he could deflect her questions so easily, while poking around in her business so determinedly.

"Yes, but now she expects me to do this well on everything," she hissed back.

"Well then," he chirped. "I'll just have to tutor you."

"Maybe," Namie shot him a look and turned back to face the front. Whether she cared to admit it or not, the idea was tempting. On the one hand it would be nice to have someone to look over her work, to point out mistakes or things she didn't understand. To remind her of what she missed when she fell asleep in class.

On the other hand Namie didn't want to accept the help. There was too much going on in her life to add something, or someone, else to worry about. Besides, Namie was the one who could take care of things on her own. Who got by and never needed help from anyone else. To accept help was to say she couldn't handle it. And she could handle it. She absolutely could.

Ms. Ueda clapped her hands at the front of the class. "Ok students, now for this next unit we'll be focusing on different aspects of the period. I want you to divide into pairs and you will work together for the next few weeks on the topic I assign you." She paused. "Yes Momiji?"

Momiji's hand was waving gracefully back and forth as high as he could reach. He put it down as he was called on with a simple smile that sent a stab of foreboding through Namie's stomach.

"I'll work with Namie!"

_Well_, thought Namie. _So much for the tutoring decision._

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya_


	5. Chapter 5 Phone Call

**I realized I've been moving very slowly though this story, and I apologize. There's been a lot of in and out of classrooms. This was going to be another part to this chapter but it got too long, but I'm getting there I promise! Just stay with me please! That's all I ask (and review!).**

As the last chattering students trouped past the open classroom door, Momiji slid his bag onto the desk across from the one occupied by Namie. School was out and they had the classroom to themselves to work on their project.

"Ready to doze off?" Momiji asked when he glanced up to see Namie covering a yawn.

She shook her head blearily. "I'm just tired."

"You're always tired! How much do you sleep at night?"

"I don't sleep," Namie murmured distractedly, running a hand over her face and hair.

Momiji blinked. "You don't sleep? What? Why not?"

Now it was Namie's turn to blink. "Stress and stuff I guess," she replied with guarded casualness. She seemed more awake now as she opened her history book.

"Stress about what?" persisted Momiji.

"Our history project," Namie answered curtly. "Now can we start working on it?"

Momiji watched her curiously as she turned a few pages. Then, when he made it clear that he was not going to move, she sighed. To his surprise she didn't offer an explanation or get annoyed. She simply looked at him with green eyes full of weariness and asked "Please?"

Without another word, Momiji picked up his pencil and began looking through his own book for ideas. "Ah yes," he muttered. "Now we simply face the problem of making economics interesting." Out of the corner of his eye he saw a smile float around the edges of Namie's mouth.

Their study session was interrupted just fifteen minutes later, however, by a tinny pop song emanating from Namie's pocket.

Momiji raised an eyebrow and gave her a smirk. "That's your ringtone? You know it's aimed at pre-teen girls right?"

Namie rolled her eyes but couldn't completely suppress a small smile. The more time Momiji spent with her, the more he noticed her starting to relax. "It was _not_ my pick," she said as she pulled the phone out.

The smile disappeared when she saw the name on the screen, to be replaced with a look of confusion.

"Who is it?" Momiji craned his neck to get a look at the name.

"My brother," frowned Namie. "Why is he calling? I told him to go straight home and I'd be there later."

The phone continued to play its upbeat tune.

Namie glanced at Momiji. "Do you mind if I take it?" He shook his head and watched her walk out the room, putting the phone to her ear. The door clicked shut and Momiji was left by himself.

Patience, along with self-containment and respecting personal boundaries, was not Momiji's strong suit. He fiddled with his pencil for a few minutes, read half a paragraph, and finally gave up. Unable to contain his curiosity, Momiji pushed off from his chair and opened the door just wide enough to peek down the hall.

Namie's back was to him but Momiji could hear the same note of forced calm that she had used with the teacher.

"Jeez Jien," she was saying. "We've talked about this." Pause. "I don't care what happened." A sigh. "Honestly, of all the times to pick, Jien." She ran her hand through her hair agitatedly. "No don't bother Dad with this just yet." Another sigh and in a more dejected tone she continued, "I'll figure something out. Tell Anii to wait in the library until I get there. Yeah, I'll see you later."

Namie hung up the phone. Momiji was now leaning in the completely open doorway watching her, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead she put her face in her hands and leaned headfirst against the wall.

"Damn it, Jien," she whispered in a cracked voice.

Unable to stand back anymore, Momiji left his hiding place and came towards her. "Are you ok?"

Namie dropped her hands to look at him, and he stopped in his tracks. For a long moment he stared into her face as the obvious tears filling her eyes threatened to spill over. Then she was wiping them away, scrunching up her face, and pinching the bridge of her nose to stop the rest.

"My idiot brother," she began, her voice still thick, but getting stronger, "has landed himself in detention for fighting. Again. And they will not let him go until a parent or older sibling comes to sign him out."

Momiji didn't quite know what to say.

"I'd be temped to let him rot there for a little while," Namie went on. A sort of deep anger both seemed to calm her frustration and make her much more blunt. "But my little sister is there too and now she's stuck at school without a way to get home. Arg!" Namie balled her fists in her hair again. "I don't need this right now!"

Still shocked by the outbursts, Momiji approached her cautiously, hoping to bestow some type of helpful comfort. As he came closer, he reached out his arms to hug her, but at the last minute, reflex kicked in and his could go no further. Whatever it might be to other people, to him a hug was a big deal, and still a gesture he was unused to around most people. Momiji finally settled for patting her awkwardly on the arm.

Namie jumped slightly, as if she had forgotten he was there. "I'm sorry," she said, also looking surprised at her rant. "I don't mean to bother you with this."

That phase again. _Don't want to bother you. _Momiji cocked his head but smiled. "S'ok. Wish I could help. Do you need to go get him now?"

"Yeah," sighed Namie. "Sorry to cut our work short. I'll make it up to you." She brushed passed him to gather her things from the room.

Momiji stood in the hall. It was probably better that he go home anyway. It would be quiet at the main house with only a couple servants there and later he had to go visit his dad so he should get his homework done before he spent his evening wandering around an empty office building and making halfhearted stabs at conversation and— "Can I come?"

The words were out of his mouth before he had even really thought about them. Namie paused with her bag half way on her shoulder. Conflicting emotions flitted across her face and Momiji thought she was going to say no. But then she shrugged, settled her bag, and said skeptically, "If you really want to."

Momiji grinned and ran to get his things. "Of course! I want to meet your delinquent siblings."

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya_


	6. Chapter 6 Siblings

**Please review so I don't think I'm just sending this out into cyberspace!**

"So… what are their names?" Momiji said to break the silence that had fallen as he and Namie made their way down the sidewalk.

Namie glanced at him, questioning.

"Your brother and sister!"

"Oh." Namie still did not look entirely at ease with him coming along, but she shrugged her shoulders and answered in a pleasant tone. "Jien and Anii."

Another pause before Momiji coaxed, "And…"

For a split second he swore he caught the ghost of a smile appear out of the corner of his eye. "You just keep pestering until you get people to tell you what you want don't you?" she said, not unkindly.

Momiji grinned.

"Very well." Tossing her head back to look at the cloud above them, Namie bit her lip as she searched for words. "Jien is fourteen and can be a little— impulsive sometimes. He means well though and is always trying to act more grown up than he is. Anii is nine. She is sweet. Very optimistic. It'd be annoying if she wasn't so cute and wasn't always trying to bestow her happiness on me."

Momiji looked at her. Namie wasn't even trying to hide her smile now and she looked more peaceful than he had ever seen her. Some of what he now realized were worry lines around her eyes had faded.

"They sound nice," he murmured.

"Oh they're a pain most of the time," Namie said conversationally, making Momiji start. "Like now for instance."

"Does your brother get in trouble often?"

"Sometimes. He's got a temper when he snaps. It didn't used to happen much, but it got worse before we moved here. I'm just hoping he's not suspended this time. He gets left alone in the house and likes to mess with my stuff."

She caught Momiji's eye, and he saw there was a twinkle of laughter in the green. "But I wouldn't trade them for the world. Someone's got to keep me on my toes."

Momiji laughed and they fell silent again but this time it was less heavy, more friendly.

"You must have that sibling feeling too though," Namie added and Momiji jerked to look at her, caught off guard. She regarded his movement with some surprise and clarified, "With Haru? You said you grew up together."

"Oh!" An unexpected tightening in Momiji's chest loosed and he gave a breathy chuckle. "Of course. Good lord yes. If you think your brother has a temper you should see Haru."

Namie raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Uh huh. This one time, he had put the last piece of cake in fridge…"

Momiji's story lasted down three blocks, then they turned and walked four more until Namie finally stopped in front of a large school gate. She turned to look at Momiji.

"You should probably stay here. They want a sibling or parent to come in so they can talk about what happened. It shouldn't take too long."

Momiji watched her walk up to the school and disappear though the doors. He leaned against the gate and with smile that he could not explain on his face.

OOO

Ten minutes later the doors opened again. A small girl with long blonde hair, a shade more yellow than Namie's, came bursting out. She spun around, her bright pink backpack straps barely hanging onto her shoulders. Namie followed, arguing with the boy right behind her.

"I've told you before, you've got to keep a hold on your temper or you're going to get expelled," she was saying.

"I tried but Goro's just a jerk, and he likes pissing me off."

"Language!"

Jien was lanky and a few inches shorter than Namie with shaggy brown hair that fell over his forehead. It added to the brooding expression on his face, though Momiji didn't know if it was one he wore normally or simply when his older sister was berating him.

The trio reached Momiji and Namie paused.

"Well, here we are," she said to him. "Momiji this is Jien and Anii. Guys, this is Momiji."

Both Jien and Anii eyed him, Anii with curiosity, Jien with some suspicion. Momiji noticed that he had Namie's piercing green eyes. Anii's were more hazel.

Momiji smiled.

"Who are you?" Jien asked. Namie wacked him lightly in the back of the head.

"Manners. Momiji and I are partners in History and since our project time was so rudely interrupted by you—" she prodded Jien in the back, and he started walking in front of them down the street. "He decided to come along."

"I told you, Goro was bugging me," Jien said, frowning.

Namie raised one eyebrow. "Oh really? What did he say?"

Jien's faced colored as he hunched his shoulders and muttered. "He insulted my sweatshirt."

Momiji watched Namie and Jien bicker back and forth. Despite the reprimands in her words, there was no real anger and lightness was still in Namie's face. Momiji found himself wondering if he himself could make her seem that way more often.

"I like your pin."

Momiji broke out of his thoughts and looked down at Anii. She had been trailing along behind her sister, humming slightly to herself but when they stopped by a bus stop she ended up standing at Momiji's side.

She pointed at the rabbit pin attached to the corner of Momiji's jacket.

"Thanks!" Momiji smiled. "I love rabbits. They're my favorite animal."

Anii beamed up at him. "Really? I love them too! My friend Leiko had a bunny and she let me hold it. It was really soft. I wish we could have a bunny but Daddy says no but I would take really good care of it and feed it carrots and—"

She would have gushed on but at that moment Namie called over to them. "Anii come on, this is our bus."

Anii left him to grab Namie's outstretched hand as the big wheels slowed and screeched to a halt in front of them.

"Is Daddy going to be home?" she asked, swinging on her older sister's arm.

Namie shook her head. "No, he has to stay at the hospital for a while so he won't be home until much later."

With a whoosh the door opened and Jien stepped on. Namie turned to Momiji. "Well, see you later," she said with a small smile.

"Bye Momiji!" Anii waved frantically with the hand that was not holding Namie's and hopped up the steps, pulling her sister with her.

He grinned and waved back at their foggy faces in the windows. "Bye!"

OOO

Though Namie had said "see you later", Momiji hadn't expected that he actually would. But when he got on the bus later that night to ride the few stops from his father's office to the main house, he was astonished to see the three siblings all at the end of the bus.

He carefully made his way towards them. Namie sat against the window. Anii was curled on her lap and Jien's head lay on Namie's shoulder. At first glance all three seemed to be asleep, but as Momiji slid into the seat in front of them, Namie raised her head. When she saw who it was she let out a low chuckle.

"Have you been riding the bus all night?" Momiji whispered so as not to wake her siblings.

The corners of Namie's mouth twitched, and she shook her head. "Just went out for a bit. You?"

"Finally going home. I had stuff to do. I spent some time at the library."

Namie groaned lightly. "Oh no, our history project. We didn't exactly get anything done today."

Momiji looked at her. "That's ok. We have the weekend to meet up and work."

Namie bit her lip. "I have to stay home. My dad's busy so I need to babysit."

"Well I could come over to your house if that's better."

Solemn green eyes pierced Momiji for a long moment. For some reason they made him feel nervous. Then, slowly, Namie nodded.

"Ok," she said softly. "Come over Saturday afternoon. My address is in the student directory."

Momiji nodded, smiling and Namie smiled faintly back. Then the bus driver was calling "Anyone getting off?" and he had to grab his bag and stand up.

"Goodnight!" he whispered warmly, started to walk up the aisle.

"You too," Namie murmured sleepily. "Oh and Momiji—"

He turned back. Her head, which had been about to settle on top of Jien's, came up to look at him seriously.

"Thank you."

A soft smile tugged at his mouth. "Anytime."

Momiji disembarked but he stood on the sidewalk, watching the three siblings, Namie's ash blond head now resting on Jien's, until the bus was out of sight.

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya_


	7. Chapter 7 Coming Over

**Review please. :)**

By 2:00 on Saturday, Namie still could not entirely believe that she had agreed for Momiji to come over, but the ringing of the buzzer from outside the apartment building finally proved it had been real. Namie quickly let him in to the building and fidgeted by door, waiting for him to arrive.

"Namie, what was that?" her father's voice called from down the hall.

"Just my friend Momiji, Dad. He's coming over to study," she shouted back.

"A friend came over?" his voice sounded skeptical. "Make him wait there, I want to meet this friend."

Namie sighed. Great. Now she was even more nervous. It had been a long time since she had brought any friends home and who knew how Momiji was going to act. He could be so odd. She had thought her father would have gone to the hospital already but he was running late and now there was no escape.

There was a knock on the door and Namie let Momiji in.

"Hi!" he grinned.

Namie smiled thinly back. "Hello. Um, welcome I guess."

A door at the end of the hall opened as Namie's father stepped out.

"Momiji, this is my dad." Namie gestured awkwardly to her father then back to Momiji. "Dad this is my friend and study partner Momiji Sohma."

Momiji looked at her father with curiosity. Namie couldn't blame him. They looked nothing alike. Her father had a darker coloring with greying brown hair and hazel eyes, and a thin face compared to Namie's rounder one. He looked much more like Jien than his eldest daughter. For a moment both he and Momiji examined each other, then Momiji surprised Namie by stepping forward and bowing slightly.

"It is nice to meet you sir."

Namie's father suddenly smiled and stuck out a hand. "Kiosho Kimura. Always glad to meet a friend of Namie's. Come in." He waved Momiji towards the kitchen and put his arm around Namie to whisper in her ear, "I like him."

Namie let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and leaned into her father's hug with a smile. "Thanks Dad."

He grinned back and called down the hallway, "Jien, Anii, be good and listen to your sister." He patted Namie's arm one more time. "Hope your work goes well."

"Thanks," Namie said softly. "I hope everything goes alright."

Her father's smile faded sadly as the door closed behind him. "Me too."

OOO

Momiji was bending over a photograph as Namie entered the kitchen. When Momiji heard her footsteps he straightened up and grinned.

"Your dad seems nice."

Namie smiled back easily. "He's the best."

Momiji gestured to the picture and said teasingly, "Cute photo." A blond woman with Namie's green eyes was holding a squirming, toddler Jien. An adolescent Namie was sucking her thumb in the background.

Namie fidgeted with her sleeve, an endearing pink flush rising in her cheeks.

"You used to suck your thumb?"

"When I was little, yes."

"That's so cute!" he cooed.

Namie rolled her eyes. "It was a phase. Tell me you didn't have odd habits when you were little."

Momiji opened his mouth to say, yes actually, he had, but suddenly thought better of it and closed his mouth again. For some reason, revealing his former taste in cloths to Namie made him embarrassed. He didn't want her to think badly of him.

His hesitation was not lost on Namie though. She raised an eyebrow and looked like she was going to ask again, but at that moment Anii poked her head into the kitchen.

"Momiji!" she cried.

"Hi!" Momiji waved back.

Anii looked around, then questioningly at Namie. "Is Daddy already gone?"

"Yeah, he left a few minutes ago."

"Oh." Anii's face fell. Her eyes focused on a spot on the floor and Momiji saw her bottom lip start to quiver.

"Hey," Namie said softly. "It's ok. He'll be back later and everything'll be fine." She wrapped an arm around Anii who buried her face in her sister's side and nodded slowly.

"I know."

"Then what brought on that face?"

"My class is having a bake sale this week. I need to make cookies. Special ultra-chocolate chip cookies. Like we used to have."

Namie shot a look at Momiji who was watching curiously. He could tell she was uncomfortable about this happening in front of him. To reduce her embarrassment, he sat down at the table and pulled out his notes.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Namie kneel down in front of Anii and say softly, "Look sweetie I know. How 'bout this: you go watch TV for a while. I have to study but when Momiji leaves I'll find the recipe and we can make the cookies together. OK?"

Anii nodded again, still rubbing her cheeks but looking happier. Namie stood, kissed her little sister on the head, and gently nudged her out of the kitchen. Momiji only glanced up at Namie when she finally sank into the chair opposite him with a sigh.

"Are you ever going to tell me what's going on?" he finally asked after a moment.

Namie paused in running her hand through her hair. Very slowly she lowered her arm and gave him a long searching look. Momiji had the distinct feeling he was be measured in some way. Whatever she was testing for, she must not have found it though because Namie dropped her eyes the papers on the table and murmured, "Maybe sometime. Not now."

Her face was so sad and her voice so empty that Momiji resisted the urge to push the matter further.

Their homework was pleasant but uneventful. Together they compiled a list of research from their book, then as Namie wrote out their main argument and notes on a large piece of paper, Momiji added a diagram and a few decorations. After stepping back to admire their handiwork, the two moved on to general studying. Namie still was having trouble remembering dates.

"No, no," Momiji was laughing. "The _trial_ happening in '32. The actual crime happened three years earlier. You can't have a trial for a crime that hasn't happened yet!"

But Namie wasn't paying attention to him anymore. She had stiffened bolt upright in her chair all of a sudden. Cocking her head and not focusing on the kitchen, she seemed to be listening to something Momiji hadn't heard.

"Namie?" he said softly. "Is everything ok?"

"No." She swore under her breath. "Damn it. I'll be back." Pushing up from the table, Namie hurried out of the room.

Momiji gave her a minute head start, and then followed. She had gone into the next room, which was a small, cozy sitting room with a coach and TV. The upbeat, cartoon children's show that was playing on the TV clicked off as Momiji peaked around the doorway. Namie was sitting down on the couch, enfolding Anii in her arms. The little girl was sobbing, her entire body wracked with each shake, despite her sister's embrace.

Neither one had noticed Momiji watching. Anii was buried in Namie's shoulder and Namie's face was down, kissing Anii's hair.

"Shh, shh," she murmured softly.

Anii drew in a shuddering breath. "I miss Mommy," she whimpered.

"I know," whisper Namie. A small tear leaked out of her own eye, drawing a sparking trail down her face.

Momiji shifted in the doorway and Namie looked up at him. He felt a flush of embarrassment at intruding on something so private that he was so obviously not a part of, but she didn't seem surprised to see him. Even though her eyes were bright with tears, so many other emotions, sadness, hopelessness, fear, pleading, dulled the beautiful green color. She didn't say anything, just looked at him, asking _What now?_, and Momiji realized it was up to him to answer.

He bowed his head, shuffled his feet a little, then with a practice ease, he pulled up a smile and plastered it to his face.

"You know," he said cheerfully, making Anii hiccup and blink up at him. "I think we've done a good enough job studying. How about those cookies?"

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya_


	8. Chapter 8 Cookies

**For Lotta Devon. Finally, the reason for Namie's tiredness and stress. I hope it lives up to your expectations. Tell me if you like it or not. :) **

Half an hour into cookie making, and Namie could feel a panic attack coming on. The dough wasn't mixing properly, they were running out of chocolate, and, to top it off, Momiji still wouldn't leave. She stared down at the recipe in desperation. _Why wasn't it working?_ It had been a long time since she had made the cookies and never by herself. Try as she, might, Namie couldn't remember all the tricks to making them turn out perfectly. _She used to make them so easy. _

Namie glanced up to see Momiji hand Anii a small handful of chocolate chips, while munching on a few himself.

"Momiji! What are you doing? Stop eating the chips!"

Anii jumped, the chocolate halfway to her mouth, but Momiji looked back at Namie unabashed.

"We were checking they hadn't been poisoned," he replied.

"I don't care," Namie snapped back. "We don't have enough chocolate for you two to be messing around! If you insist on staying, then the least you can do is grow up and help me figure out why the dough isn't setting up."

Namie watched guiltily as the ray of laughter that had appeared on Anii's face after the poison comment slide off, to be replaced by big watery eyes. Grinding her teeth, Namie looked back at the recipe to avoid Momiji's steady gaze and Anii's hurt one. Tears were pricking the corners of her own eyes. This was supposed to be fun. It had always been Namie's self-appointed role to prove that everything could still be normal, but it was painfully obvious just how out of her element she was. She couldn't even keep as simple activity like making cookies turning into a complete disaster.

"Hey Namie?" Momiji said softly.

"What?"

Namie raised her head just in time to see Momiji blow on his hand, sending a cloud of flour towards her. It hit her full in the face, completely whiting out the top of her shirt and filling her still open mouth with the fine dust.

Anii stared aghast at her older sister, waiting for her reaction. Momiji bit on his lip, his sparkling eyes showing the suppressed laughter. Namie stood very still. The shock had struck her dumb, mind reeling for something to say. Slowly she unstiffened, rubbing flour our of her eyes.

When she had swallowed enough dry powder to speak, Namie gave an exasperated sigh. "I can not believe you," she said, turning to the bowl of sloshy cookie dough. She stirred the spoon a few times, then pulled it out, still dripping with the mixture.

"You're going to pay for that, Momiji Sohma."

By the time Jien can in to see what all the noise was, the entire kitchen was a mess. Namie had splattered on Momiji's face with liberal amounts of batter, he had smashed an egg on her head in retaliation, and Anii's cloths were more white from flour than any other color.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Jien said, aghast. Namie straightened up, choked on some flour, and generally giggling and gasping for breath too much to tell him off for language. Or to tell him anything.

Jien eyed all the batter on Momiji. "What happened to the cookies?"

"We," Namie looked around and gestured to the mess. "Well, we ran out of chocolate."

There was a beat of silence before Anii tossed a handful of flour into the air. "Poof," she said softly as the dust fell down around her, explaining how she had gotten covered so completely.

"You're all insane." Jien shook his head and left.

Momiji caught Namie's eye and winked. She made a feeble attempt at giving him a stern look that quickly failed and gave way to wide grin.

"Here." Jien reappeared suddenly and tossed a mostly full bag of M&Ms on the counter.

"Yay Jien!" Anii cheered and hugged him around the waist.

Amid the back and forth of, "Ugh, you're covered in flour!", "Yay!", "There's hand prints on my shirt!", "You're the best brother ever!", Momiji looked back at Namie. She brushed her hair out of her face, smearing egg and flour paste across her forehead, still unable to hold back a chuckle.

OOO

Their special ultra-chocolate chip and M&M cookies were quickly completed and baking peacefully in the oven, and together they tackled the seemingly impossible task of cleaning up. Jien had gone to get more paper towels and Anii was in her room, putting on a new shirt, leaving Momijij and Namie alone in the kitchen when he heard her soft voice from behind him.

"My mom's in the hospital."

The phrase sounded so simple but it made Momiji's heart stop. He stared at Namie who focused on the spot she had been scrubbing.

"Is she going to be ok?" was the only thing he could think to ask.

Namie shrugged and went on in an empty voice, "I don't know. She has cancer. That's why we moved here. So she could get better care."

Momiji swallowed. "So that's the reason for all the stress and being behind."

"I've been taking on most of the responsibility. Dad doesn't want me too, he says it's too much, but he works a lot and someone's got to do it," continued Namie with no inflection.

"And the tiredness?" Momiji was afraid to speak above a whisper.

Namie bowed her head. "I don't sleep anymore. I developed insomnia a little while after she got sick." She closed her eyes and murmured so faintly Momiji had to strain to hear, "It's the only way I can escape the nightmares."

Momiji didn't know what to say. _I'm sorry_, was useless. _It'll be alright_, was untrue. Then he saw Namie reach up to wipe a tear and, without thinking, he stepped forward, pulling her close and enfolding her in a tight hug. Her face settled perfectly into the crook of his shoulder and her arms wrapped around his back just as tightly. And, Momiji realized, he didn't have to say anything at all.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Namie made the best pasta Momiji had ever eaten, they finally got all the flour off the top of the cabinets, Anii methodically introduced Momiji to all her stuffed animals, and Jien, apparently thinking after the hug that Momiji was trying to put the moves on his sister and wanting be a protective brother, followed Momiji around constantly. When Momiji pointed this out to Namie, he heard her laugh for the first time, a deep throaty sound that he liked instantly.

In no time they had all collapsed, exhausted, on the couch to watch TV. Anii yawned and went to bed quickly, followed by Jien not long after. Namie hadn't mentioned Momiji leaving yet, and he didn't want to, so he sat with her, expecting to stay for a few more minutes.

He hadn't even noticed the TV and the room swaying and going dark until he heard the door swing shut in the hall, and he jumped awake.

The two of them had fallen asleep together, Namie wrapped in a striped afghan with her head on Momiji's shoulder and his head on her cheek. Momiji looked up to see Namie's father watching them and he leaped to his feet awkwardly.

"Dad," Namie mumbled, blinking and pushing herself up with some difficulty. "How's Mom?"

"The new treatment went alright. You guys can go see her tomorrow if she's awake," he replied, still not commenting on the scene he'd walked in on. He watched his daughter stand upright, still wrapped in the afghan and swaying slightly. "Are you ok sweetie?"

"Yeah," Namie nodded blearily. "Sleepy. I was asleep. Still kinda foggy."

"You go to bed." Her father put a hand on her back and steered her down the hall. "I'll walk Momiji out."

"Ok." Shuffling down the hall, Namie smiled gently at Momiji over her shoulder, waving with just the tip of one hand poking out of the blanket. "G'night Momiji. Thanks for your help."

"Anytime," he called back. He grabbed his sweatshirt, which had been left by the door after it taken most of the batter attack, thankfully leaving his undershirt fairly clean, and followed her father to the door. As they reached it, Kiosho Kimura glanced back just in time to see Namie and her blanket disappear into her room.

"Mr. Kimura, I swear we've been working all afternoon and we were just tired and we fell asl—" Momiji began but Namie's father cut right through him.

"That," he said firmly, stopping Momiji in his tracks, "was the first time I've seen my daughter sleep in I don't know how long."

Momiji looked at him, trying to figure out if he was in trouble or not.

Kiosho Kimura smiled at Momiji's confusion. "She must feel safe with you. I don't know if she's told you about my wife's condition—"

"She just did."

He raised his eyebrow at Momiji approvingly. "I think that makes you the first person Namie's told since we learned of the cancer. Not to mention the only person outsider her family who's made her smile." His smiled faded and his face was serious as he bowed his head to Momiji. "You have my highest thanks."

Momiji could feel the weight of the man's words and, once again could think of nothing fitting to say, so he simply bowed back.

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya. M&Ms are owned and produced by Mars, Incorporated._


	9. Chapter 9 Phone Conversations

**Sorry for the long delay. Please review if you're still with me so I know to continue.**

"Hello?"

"Hi!"

"Momiji? How did you get my phone number?"

"I sent myself a text on it when I was at your place. And now you have mine too!"

"Great."

"What's that tone for? Now we can talk on the phone whenever we want!"

"Are you going to be calling me at all hours of the day and night then?"

"Are you going to be sleeping at any of those hours?"

"Probably not."

"Then yes!"

"Oh boy…"

OOO

The first time he called her it was around 9 o'clock. They had talked for about fifteen minutes about homework, school, and other trivial topics. The second time was at 9:30 and lasted longer when they got onto the subject of movies. The third time at 10 continued without stopping for a full hour and a half when a literature assignment sparked an all-out debate the quality of certain books. The fourth time, Namie called Momiji.

She told herself it was for homework, a question about this or that that eventually gave way to something else, but really it was a routine. Over the next few weeks, every night at about 9:30 Namie would look to her phone on the corner of her desk, waiting for the inevitable ring. If it didn't come, her fingers acted for her, dialing the number to hear the chirpy response of "I was just going to call you! You beat me to it!"

By then, their conversations meander over any topic. Even though they saw each other every day at school, there was always something else to discuss.

"So Momiji, what was your weird habit as a kid."

"My what?"

"The other day when you were here, you had a funny look when I asked about stuff you did as a kid."

"It's not that important."

"Oh come on! Please?"

"Alright, I used to wear girls clothes."

"Like, occasionally for fun?

"No, more like all the time. I wore the girl's uniform to school for a year. Nearly gave the student body president at the time a heart attack."

"Really? Why?"

"I think he was wound a little tight, very concerned with propriety. He didn't believe Haru's hair was real, but after Haru showed him his—"

"No, I meant why did you wear girl's clothes?"

"Oh. I don't know. I guess I just liked it. They kinda fit me. I looked really girly and everyone thought I acted weird, like really young, so I thought I might as well dress funny too. The odd looks I got could make me laugh sometimes."

Silence for a beat.

"I can understand that. So why'd you stop."

"Just grew out of it I guess. I didn't really care so much about what I wore anymore. And I felt ok blending it a bit more."

"That kind of makes sense."

"Really?"

"Yeah I guess. It also explains why a good deal of our grade thinks you're gay."

"What? They do not!"

"I've been told you are by at least seven different people."

"I'm not gay! And stop laughing!"

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry. You've got to admit it's kind of the logical conclusion though."

"I suppose… Girl's clothes are just prettier than guy's clothes."

"Saying that is not helping your case Momiji."

The only boundaries they had were slight. Except for the occasional, "How's you mom?" Momiji knew not to ask about Namie's mother unless she brought it up first.

The other boundary was more unexpected. One night as the clock approached eleven, Namie asked if Momiji's parents minded that he was on the phone so late. They had been laughing and joking easily but at the question Momiji got very quiet.

For a moment Namie thought the connection had dropped.

"Momiji?"

"Oh," he said, still cheerfully but Namie could hear an awkward note that had nothing to do with the quality of the phone, "No."

"Really? My Dad walks by a gives me a look when he thinks it's too late."

"Well, I don't really live with my parents."

Namie took the phone away from her ear to stare at it, as if by doing so she could see Momiji's face.

"You don't?"

"No." Momiji's answer was short. "I live at the general family's main house."

"But—"

"Hatori's here though!" Momiji cut across her with another slightly forced jolt of excitement. "I'll put him on. Hey Hatori!"

Not quite knowing what to expect, Namie listened to a far off exchange, the sound of the phone being handed off, and another person sighing as the put the phone to their ear.

"Hello?" said a deep voice.

"Um, hello. I'm Namie, Momiji's friend."

"Ah," the solemn voice replied, but with a hint of a smile. "So you're the one Momiji always going on about."

"Uh yes. I suppose."

"I'm Hatori Sohma. Very pleased to speak to you."

A muffled noise came through, then Momiji's voice spoke again.

"That's Hatori. He's a doctor and he can be very boring sometimes, but he doesn't mind me talking so long as I don't do it too loud."

"Oh ok," Namie laughed. She was confused by the back and forth, but the unspoken message was clear. From then on, she did not ask about Momiji's parents again. He would talk easily about Haru and a few of his other cousins, and even Hatori and a group of men Namie could only assume were his uncles, but nothing about parents, or even about his family too specifically.

The last boundary was that, besides Momiji's question the first time he called her, they didn't talk about Namie's sleeping habits. It wasn't really so much a boundary though, as something they just didn't really bother to mention because it wasn't interesting. They both knew Namie didn't sleep, and they didn't dwell on it. Ever night after Momiji hung up and went to bed, Namie would debate attempting to fall asleep, or skipping the pointless tossing and turning. Most nights she spent the hours trying to do more homework, or watching TV or reading, or even doing laundry and other things around the house, before she finally collapsed from pure exhaustion an hour or two before sunset.

"You should go to bed," Namie said on night near midnight as she heard Momiji stifle a yawn. They had been talking every night for over two weeks and this was later than they normally went.

"Are you going to bed now?"

"No, I don't think so," she answered cautiously.

"Well then I'll stay up with you!" he replied cheerfully.

Namie laughed slightly. "You'll be up for a while. I think you'd better go sleep."

"You need sleep too," he countered.

"I still have things to do."

"Things that you honestly can't do tomorrow?"

Namie's silence was as good as assent. It was hard to blatantly lie to Momiji, even over the phone.

"Namie go to bed!" he cajoled

"I can't," she muttered. "I don't fall asleep."

"Well at least get in bed." There was a pause. "Are you in your pajamas?"

"Yes. What kind of a question is that?"

"So go sit in bed, don't hang up, just get under the covers."

Feeling ridiculous, Namie obeyed. She had no idea how he could tell if she was in bed, or even why she was bothering to follow his orders, but the rustling of the comforter seemed to satisfy Momiji.

"Ok, now we're going to stay on the phone until one of us falls asleep."

"Won't talking keep us awake?"

"We don't talk, we just have the phone next to us. Are you lying down?"

"Yes." Namie put her head on the pillow. "This is kind of weird."

"I think it's nice. It's like having company."

"But—"

"Shh, sleep."

Namie sighed and closed her eyes. Momiji was humming faintly to himself. She liked his voice. When he wasn't chirping excitedly, it had a soft, musical tone that flowed through her mind, very far away and yet close at the same time.

OOO

On the other end of the line, Momiji listened to Namie's soft breathing and smiled.

OOO

The clinking in the kitchen made Namie open her eyes suddenly. Her phone was sitting next to her head on the pillow. The battery was dead and sunlight was streaming through the windows. She bolted upright and hurried to the kitchen.

"What's going on?" she asked, disoriented. Her father turned to smile at her from the eggs was making on the stove as Anii and Jien looked up from the table.

"Good morning sleepyhead. I was just about to come wake you. You overslept so I thought I'd go in late and make breakfast for you for a change. Did you have a good sleep?"

Namie blinked a few times and rubber her sleepy face and tousled bed hair. "Yeah," she said, with a small smile. "I did."

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya._


	10. Chapter 10 Sohmas

** The Sohmas have arrived! Well that was much longer and more difficult than I expected. I know build up is a pain both to write and to read, but it had to be done for what I want to do next. All I can do is, as usual, kindly request reviews. :) **

Namie stood outside the gates with Jien, trying to keep the look of shock from being too obvious on her face.

Next to her, Jien opened his mouth.

"Holy—"

"Language," Namie said faintly, and he closed it.

She had guessed that Momiji's family was well off from the clothes he wore outside of school, but she hadn't realized that they were _that_ rich. For God's sake, what he called "the main house" looked like an entire estate! A huge gate kept the out the rest of the world, while the name Sohma written neatly on a plaque proclaimed that it was indeed Momiji's home.

"Meet me outside the gate," he had said. "You can't miss it."

The two of them had been talking late into the night as usual, when Namie had wondered aloud if Jien would be less troublesome at school if he had an outlet.

"Like a dojo or something where he could learn to spar and work out his frustrations and energy. I wish I could find him one but I don't have the time to go look ones up."

That was when Momiji had burst in with the excitement of a person with a brilliant idea. "I know a good dojo!"

Namie had been slightly confused when he went on to explain his family had their own dojo, but now, looking at the sheer size of the property, it began to make sense.

The gate clicked open and Momiji stepped out. He grinned broadly at them as he bounded over, seemingly oblivious to their shock.

"Hi! Should we get going?"

Namie shook herself and smiled back. "Isn't the dojo in there?"

"Oh no," Momiji practically beamed at Jien's half nod of greeting. "It's down around the corner, a little separate from the main family compound."

As they started walking, Jien dawdled behind, lost in his own thoughts and pretending that he wasn't actually excited to go. Namie and Momiji fell into step together.

"How come it's separate?"

"I dunno. Probably so people can pretend to get away from the family. We sometimes say it's where to go if you're unwanted."

Namie stared at him, but Momiji didn't act as though he'd said anything unusual.

"That's horrible."

He started, finally realizing what he'd said. "No, that's not what I meant. It's just— well, everyone in my family's felt unwanted at some point, so it's nice for us to have a place to go that's close but feels separate."

"Have you ever felt that way?"

"Yeah sure. I usually just hole myself up in Hatori's house though."

He was so calm and casual about it, but Namie could see Momiji's hands clenching. They were straying into the territory of things he didn't usually talk about.

Even so, she couldn't help but ask another question. "Why? What happens?"

Momiji shrugged. "I don't know. Fights, arguments. Someone's always mad at someone. Here we are!"

Momiji was right; the dojo was perfect for Jien. The master, Kazuma Sohma, was kind and welcoming, and as Jien had already jumped into the other students' exercise, there was nothing left for Namie to do than turn around and leave with Momiji.

A few steps outside the door, Momiji turned and made to go down a side path leading between some trees.

"You're not going back this way?" Namie pointed the way they had come.

"No, there's a path that leads back to the main house."

"Oh," Namie inexplicably felt a pang of disappointment. "See you at school then." She turned away but Momiji must not have moved because a few steps later she heard him call softly, "Do you want to see the house?"

Namie paused and looked back.

"Only if you want," he added immediately.

An overwhelming curiosity began to clamor for Namie's attention, as well as the desire to talk a little longer. "Um, ok. Sure."

OOO

Though the rules about outsiders inside the compound were gone now, Momiji still felt like all his senses were elevated as he lead Namie through the grounds, just waiting for someone to stop them.

Namie must have picked up on it because she asked, "Am I allowed to be here?"

"Yeah," Momiji reassured her. "It's just that some of the servants are kind of sticklers for tradition."

Namie's eyes widened. "You have servants?"

"Yeah, they're either fridges of the family, or they're own family's been with us for ages. The Sohmas are big on tradition. We only recently started changing."

"Why?" Namie had a knack for asking the few questions Momiji didn't want to answer. Maybe it was because he always ended up starting to tell her more stuff than he ever told most people.

"Uh, it was just time I guess. Here's Hatori's house and his practice. I live here."

Momiji lead the way up to the door, knocking on it as he entered. "Hatori?"

There was no reply.

"He must be out. Come on!" Momiji beckoned Namie inside. "Well, welcome!" he grinned, spreading his arms wide.

She followed him carefully, but looked around the house with undisguised curiosity. Momiji watched her taking in the simple bookshelves and the plain, wooden floor. He wondered if she was looking for pictures on the walls, or personal touches but he knew only too well how few things Hatori kept. There was one picture buried on a shelve of a smiling woman, but that was on the list of things the Momiji definitely did not want to explain.

"My rooms are down here," Momiji said, leading the way down the hall to a small room with a couch, a huge window and a few doors leading to his bedroom. It was almost equally as sparse, with only a few bunny pillows and a small watercolor. In fact, most of the houses in the family compound were like that. The Sohmas weren't exactly "homey" people. Momiji was suddenly uncomfortable aware that Namie was only the second person outside the family to see his room, and the first he had ever actually invited over.

But Namie didn't say anything about the sparseness. Instead she smiled.

"Nice pillows."

Momiji let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and grinned. "Rabbits are my thing."

Namie's gaze fell on the cluster of things standing in the corner. "You play violin?" she said eagerly.

Momiji glanced at the black case and music stand, then grinned. "Oh yeah! I don't get lessons anymore but I still practice and learn by myself."

Namie smiled easily back, her green eyes twinkling. "Will you play something for me?"

Strolling over to the case, Momiji rested one hand on top. "What would I play?" he teased.

"Anything," Namie leaned against the arm of the couch. "Like a small concert."

_A small concert._ Momiji paused. The phrase struck a memory, something he had once said.

Namie had noticed his silence and sudden reluctance. She returned her focus to examining the room. And in doing so, spotted the one picture, half covered by a stack of textbooks.

As she pulled it out and examined it, Momiji felt his heart squirm and worked to keep his face neutral. Like Hatori's one photo, it was also of a woman. This one had blond hair and a strikingly beautiful face that regarded whoever was holding the camera with a cool expression.

Namie looked up at Momiji. She didn't say anything, but he could feel the question in her gaze.

After a small cough to clear his throat, Momiji answered her softly. "That's my mom."

Namie gave a small gasp and peered deeper at the picture. "She beautiful. She looks just like you too."

Momiji smiled faintly. When he didn't say more, Namie glanced up at him again. Same questioning look. She wanted to know if it was all right to press further.

This time, Momiji was torn. It shouldn't have been a big deal, he told a person about his mother before. But that had been different, a different person, a different time. Now he wasn't sure he wanted to explain it. It probably wouldn't even make sense anymore. And for some reason Namie's opinion of him was important. Momiji didn't want to change their relationship with his crazy family.

But he felt bad shutting Namie down completely, especially after everything she'd shared with him, and Momiji's hand was still on the violin so he went with something harmless.

"When I was little, I used to imagine being a famous violinist. And I would have a small private concert, just for her and my dad and… other people who were special to me."

Namie smiled softly, understanding. "That sounds nice."

Inspired, Momiji went on, regaining some of his usual energy. "Yeah, and it'd be a really neat, and formal with suits and long dresses and everything." A passing idea sparked in his mind. "Hey, speaking of formal, are you going to the dance?"

Namie blinked. "What dance?"

"The one they've been advertising at everywhere at school! It's in a few weeks! Are you going?"

"Um." Namie was obviously thrown by the change in topic but Momiji felt much more comfortable chatting about trivial things like dances. "I hadn't thought about it."

"We should go together!"

"Together?" Namie gave him a curious look.

"Yeah!"

"Alright." A smile, different from the one she normally wore was pulling at the corners of Namie's mouth, but Momiji didn't stop to fathom its meaning, because at that moment he heard the door open.

"Hatori's here! Come on you've got to meet him!" And, grabbing Namie's hand, he dragged her out of the room.

OOO

Feeling a bit dazed, but inexplicably happy, Namie let Momiji pull her down the hall. The happiness burst suddenly though, when Momiji froze abruptly and she crashed into him from behind.

"Ouch," she muttered, leaning around Momiji's back to see what had stopped him. He hadn't even noticed the collision, so intent was he on the two people who had just entered.

One was a tall man with dark hair that covered one eye. Namie could only assume he was Hatori. The other was a woman. She had short black hair and a slight frame that she carried nobly, and was regarding Momiji with equal notice.

Momiji stood stock stiff with something akin to fear. When one of his hands reached back suddenly to grasp her arm, Namie realized with a jolt that he was frightened for her. _Who was this woman?_ She didn't look frightening. And besides a curious once over, she didn't even seem to be interested in Namie. Instead, she nodded politely to Momiji.

"Good afternoon Momiji."

"Akito." He replied warily.

"I was just telling Hatori," Akito continued lightly. "That we are to have a banquet this weekend."

"A banquet?" Now Momiji sounded baffled.

A ghost of a smile danced across the Akito's face. "Kyo and Tohru are coming to visit."

Momiji gasped and let go of Namie's arm.

Akito's eye flicked to Namie. "Everyone is welcome to bring a friend if you wish."

A little late, Momiji began hurried introductions. "Akito, this is Namie Kimura. Namie, this is Akito Sohma, the head of the family."

Awed, Namie returned Akito's bow. Well, that explained some of Momiji's fear.

"Pleased to meet you," Akito said courteously. "You are welcome to join our party."

"Th-thank you," stammered Namie. "I would be honored."

Akito smiled in reply, nodded to Momiji and the man who'd watched the whole exchange without comment, and walked away down the path.

Momiji looked at the man. "Was she serious?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "I believe so. A testament to how much things have changed." Then he turned to Namie, and despite his serious face there was a twinkle in his eye.

"Now I assume this is the friend I spoke to on the phone?" he said, prompting Momiji to jump in with an excited introduction.

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya_


	11. Chapter 11 Party

**Review please.**

Namie couldn't even remember the last time she'd been to a party. She felt horribly out of practice as she stood outside the Sohma gates once again, working up the nerve to push the button for the intercom. She wouldn't even have been there, had even planned out a polite excuse to give the head of the family, except Momiji had insisted, stressing how mush fun it would be and how much he would love to have her there and to introduce her to the rest of his family.

So Namie was outside the gates in her best party clothes. A coral tank top and long lacy skirt that went just below the knees, planned out by Anii. Of course the outfit was not at all warm, and Namie had to couple it with a thick coat and boots that somewhat ruined the nice effect.

Swallowing butterflies, Namie reached out and pushed the button.

The intercom buzzed. "Sohma residence," a tinny voice said.

"Um, Namie Kimura. I'm a friend of Momiji Sohma."

Static for a moment, then the tinny voice replied, "He's expecting you. Come in and follow the path to the main house." The gate clicked open.

Taken aback, Namie peered down the walkway. To be honest, she had expected Momiji to be there to walk her in but now that she thought about it, it seemed silly. She hadn't told him exactly when she would arrive so of course he wouldn't want to wait there all evening.

She followed the path to the large bright house, just as the voice had said and knocked on the door. A person she'd never met before opened the door

"Who are you?" he said, not unkindly, his dark eyes regarding her inquisitively from under careless black bangs.

Namie's voice seemed to have gotten stuck. She should have called Momiji from the gate. She should have told him exactly when she would come. She shouldn't have come at all.

Hatori, passing to see who was at the door, saved her. "Oh it's alright Shigure, this is Momiji's friend. Come in Namie."

Namie let out a breath of relief, smiled, and followed. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. Hatori led her and the other man to a room where about two-dozen people were gathered.

"Momiji," Hatori called and Momiji suddenly separate himself from the thickest cluster of people, bounding over with a huge grin.

"You came!" he cheered, grabbing Namie's hand dragging her towards the others. "Come on, come on! You have to meet everyone!"

He wasn't kidding. Namie was introduced to so many people in rapid succession that she thought her head was about to explode. Most of the people there were around Momiji's age or Hatori's and only a few weren't Sohmas. Namie recognized a girl from her year at school that she'd never spoken to before with one of Momiji's cousin. The man who'd let Namie left with Hatori to wrap his arm around the head of the family, and they started talking to another man with long white hair. Haru was sitting peacefully in a corner with a gloomy, dark haired girl, but he waved at Namie when he saw her.

There was no way Namie was going to remember any of their names but as the people obviously knew each other very well and went right back into their animated discussions, Namie had a feeling they weren't going to notice her much at all.

"And this…" Momiji pulled at Namie's attention for one more introduction. He let a girl forward with the air of someone saving the best for last. "Is Tohru Honda."

Namie smiled politely but was out done by the girl's absolutely over the top polite response.

"Oh it's so nice to meet you! Really it's an honor!"

Her energy and eagerness was a bit overwhelming actually. Momiji, standing next to the girl, watching her with a happy smile, seemed calm by comparison. Namie was almost relieved when a shy little girl, a bit older than Anii, tugged at the girl's skirt to say something and pulled her away.

Unfortunately, Momiji went too.

OOO

Namie's prediction had been correct. Most of the family was too preoccupied with each other to care about her. A large number of them flocked around the polite Tohru girl, flitting in and out, and all over the house, too fast for Namie to keep track of. This wouldn't have bothered her, Namie would rather not have to make small talk with a bunch of strangers, but Momiji was one of the most avid followers. The few times Namie managed to catch a glimpse of him in almost two hours, he had a silly grin on his face, said something to the Tohru girl, and followed her off somewhere else with the rest of her posse.

Left to fend for herself, Namie settled for sitting with Haru and the dark haired girl who turned out to be his girlfriend. The three of them talked little if at all, but Namie thought it was better than standing by herself in a corner. At least she knew Haru, and he was being perfectly friendly and welcoming.

"Hey Haru, where'd Shishou go?" _another_ cousin of Momiji, this one with vivid orange hair was asking.

"Dunno," was Haru's absent minded response. "I'm going to get food." And he sauntered off.

The orange hair boy nodded and his gaze fell on Namie. "Who are you again?"

"Oh," Namie looked up. "I'm Namie. Momiji's friend.

"I didn't know Momiji had any friends," the boy said, surprised.

"She's the girlfriend that's supposed to make you and Tohru jealous, idiot," Haru's girlfriend said indifferently.

It was as if the air had been sucked out of Namie's lungs with no warning. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't speak, she could barely even think. Finally, after too long of sitting there struck dumb, she managed to splutter weakly, "I'm not his girlfriend actually."

"Oh. Well, nice to meet you anyway," the orange hair boy said awkwardly before disappearing.

Namie stared down at her hands, trying to avoiding looking at any Sohmas and willing herself to keep her face neutral. Finally it was just too much. She stood up and turned to leave, running into Haru as he came back with food.

"You ok?" he said, looking at her intently.

"Yeah, fine," Namie replied as casually as she could. "I should really get going. Curfew's 11."

"Oh right. See you then."

And without anyone else noticing or bothering to stop her, Namie fled.

OOO

"Hey Momiji."

"What?" Momiji turned to Haru, pouting at being pulled from Tohru.

"I thought you'd like to know that Namie just left," Haru said calmly.

"What? So suddenly?"

"She said her curfew's 11."

"But that's almost forty minutes from now! She could have stayed longer."

Haru leveled his gaze at Momiji, for once not as sleepily and out of it as he usually was. "Momiji she doesn't live around here. It'll take her a while to get home on the bus."

"Oh ok." Momiji said sulkily.

"You can catch her to say goodbye if you run now," Haru continued.

Momiji casted a glance at Tohru.

"Tohru's not going anywhere right now." Haru said, reading his mind uncannily. "Namie didn't look so good when she left," he added, softly but firmly.

Finally, Momiji turned back to Haru, nodded once, and wove his way to the door without another word.

OOO

_Deep breath in, deep breathe out, _Namie told herself while she waited at the bus stop. _Just a few more minutes, then you're on the bus and home where nothing's wrong. Except the usual._

She blinked hard. Stupid. She'd been so stupid. For a little moment she had let herself think… but it was just stupid.

"Namie!" Momiji's voice came towards her down the sidewalk.

Cursing under her breath, Namie arranged her face into a stony shell. She turned to look at Momiji jogging up to meet her.

"Hey," he said. "You left without saying goodbye."

"You looked busy," Namie replied nonchalantly. "I didn't want to interrupt and I had curfew."

"Oh ok." Momiji rocked back and forth on his heals. "Did you have a nice time?"

Namie couldn't honestly say "yes" so she settled for a noncommittal motion with her head that thankfully Momiji took for assent.

"Me too," he grinned, starting to chatter on, unconcerned. "It's so awesome that Tohru and Kyo were here. They live far away you know, in the city, and they can't come to visit very often. Kyo wanted to run a dojo there and so of course Tohru went with him, which was kinda selfish of Kyo if you ask me, but I guess he and Tohru have to be together always so—"

"Momiji go inside." Namie had had enough. "You don't have a coat, you look cold, and you shouldn't be missing your party standing out here with me."

"No, I'm fine," Momiji said, taken aback at her sharp tone. He peered intently at Namie's face and, though he was usually so observant, finally noticed for the first time the tears pricking her eyes and the frustrated twist at the corner of her mouth.

"Namie what's wrong? I thought you said you had a nice time?"

"No! I did not have a nice time!" she finally snapped. "I was left by myself among a bunch of strangers with nothing to do and no one to talk to."

"I saw you sitting with Haru," Momiji said faintly.

"Because Haru was the only person I knew! And the only one who bothered to notice I was there! So of course I sat with him and his gloomy girlfriend while you went off God knows where pining after Tohro!"

"Tohru. And I wasn't—"

Namie screw her eyes shut and took a shuddering breath.

"Tell me you didn't invite me just so you wouldn't be alone. So you could say to what's her name that you had a girlfriend and make her jealous."

Momiji sucked in a breath, eyes wide with shock. "Who told you that?"

"Haru's girlfriend."

"I… I—" Momiji seemed to be lost for words. Namie was acutely aware that he didn't deny it.

At that moment the bus rounded the corner, heading towards them. Namie stared down Momiji's huge brown eyes.

"Not that I can't understand your infatuation with your cousin's girlfriend," she said with deadly calm barely covering her anger, "But next time you need to use someone as a tool to make her jealous, don't bother asking me."

Namie turned sharply, jumping the bus steps before Momiji could say another word. Curling up in a seat so Momiji, still standing on the curb, couldn't see her, she let the first tears start to fall.

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya_


	12. Chapter 12 Fight

** Wow I didn't expect to upload again this fast, but this chapter's short and follows on the tails of the last one. As always, please tell me what you're thinking!**

The next night when Momiji called, Namie didn't answer.

OOO

On Monday, Momiji wandered the halls at lunch, looking for Namie. He hadn't spoken to her since the party on Saturday, and after disappearing quickly at the end of their class, she was nowhere to be found.

Finally, by pure luck, he spotted her in an empty classroom, diligently working with papers spread on the desk around her.

"Hey," Momiji smiled, coming over to her. "I've been looking for you!"

"Really?" Namie didn't look up. "Fancy that."

Momiji blinked. "Are you ok?"

Now Namie did raise her head. She regarded Momiji as if he'd said something completely incomprehensible.

Shifting uncomfortably, Momiji felt the penny drop, and he asked, "Are you still mad about the party?"

Namie snorted and looked back down.

"Look, I thought it'd be fun!"

"Hard to have fun when you've got no one to talk to."

"You could have talked to some people. Or tried to get to know them." Now Momiji was starting to feel a little annoyed. It was like speaking to a brick wall.

"I did try." Namie finally put down her pen and gave him her full attention. "But it's difficult to be in a room full of people who know each other very well and don't know or care about you. And your one link has gone off somewhere else," she added contemptuously.

Momiji rolled his eyes, his own voice becoming harder too. "Like you can't strike up a conversation with a stranger. That's how you meet new people. That's how you form relationships."

"I don't need more relationships."

"Yeah right. Have you noticed you don't have many friends?"

Namie's eyes narrowed. "Maybe I don't want friends. I'd rather be left alone."

"People can't help you if you're all alone Namie!"

"I don't need help!" Her shout echoed around the empty room as Namie shot to her feet.

Momiji took a deep breath. He spoke calmly, trying to get her to see. "You can't hide from the world. You have to let people in. It's ok to let your guard down and be vulnerable sometimes."

White-hot fury burned in Namie's face. Momiji had never seen her like this. "You," she hissed. "You of all people, have no right to tell me to be more open."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he said, reeling back.

Namie put on a thousand watt, obviously fake smile.

"Oh look at me," she said in a singsong voice. "I'm so happy and perky, and I love singing and bunnies and ice cream." Her face hardened again. "I need to let people in? You hide from the world more than anyone with your little act."

It was as if she had slapped him. "It's not an act," he gasped, reflexively.

"Bull." Namie stared him down, even as Momiji desperately wanted to look away. "I know you've got at least as many problems as I do but you're too scared to let anyone see them. So you refuse to grow up and deal with anything."

And now Momiji was mad too. He couldn't remember the last time he'd really gotten angry but now he wanted to scream, to kick something, to run and hide from everything in the world, especially Namie.

"What the hell do you know? You don't know anything about me!"

Namie regarded him coolly. "And whose fault is that?"

"Whatever," Momiji tried to say equally as coolly. "I don't care what you think."

"Then why did you even bother talking to me in the first place?" Namie shot another dig.

Angry reasons chased each other around Momiji's head. There were a few calmer, more thoughtful ones deep down, but Momiji didn't want to think about them right now, so he spat the first thing that came to mind.

"I thought you looked like you needed some fun and humor in your life. So sue me for trying to help."

Wrong answer. A mask of deadly calm settled instantly over Namie's face, as his words hit home. It was somehow more terrifying than her fury. Momiji felt some of his anger drain away, leaving an empty space in his stomach as she stood to collect her papers into a pile.

"Namie—" he began but she cut him off when her eyes, completely devoid of emotion, met his.

"Thank you," she said flatly, "for your concern. You don't have to offer your help any more. As you've noticed, I'm not much good at fun. And I don't want, or need, your charity."

OOO

That night, Momiji didn't call.

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya_


	13. Chapter 13 Alone

**I feel kind of mean for the last two chapters, but what's a story without a good twist. Besides, they've both got plenty of issues to work out. Maybe updating quickly will make up for it? Review please! **

With their friendship on an indefinite pause, Momiji had expected Namie would be alone. What he had not expected, was that he would be too. The sudden lack of company made him realize just how little he actually interacted with the other students in school, and not at all outside of school. Well, he still had Haru, but that didn't really count. They'd been stuck together since birth and only really spent so much time together in school for lack of having any other group. Already in what seemed to be a permanently sulky mood, Momiji was not at all comforted by the realization.

OOO

Namie was desperately trying to remember something just on the edge of her mind. She kept running up to dark shapes of people to ask, but they wouldn't listen or just smiled, laughing at her. Growing more an more frantic, she whipped around, only to find she'd been surrounded. Trapped, she could only watch helplessly as they closed in and—

"Namie. Namie, honey wake up."

She awoke screaming, her father's hand on her arm. As Namie blinked a few times, the comforting shapes of her room fell into focus around her. The familiarity made the terror subside enough for her to sit up.

Her father watched her rub her face and run a hand through her hair. "It's been a little while hasn't it?" he said softly.

"Yeah. Sorry to wake everyone again, Dad," Namie murmured.

"That's alright. I just thought that you'd finally stopped having these nightmares."

Namie stared off into a corner. "I did stop."

"You haven't talked to Momiji for a while have you?"

Namie shrugged, still not looking at him. "We had a falling out."

Her father sighed. "I'm worried about you Namie. I don't want to see you doing this again."

"Doing what again?"

"Isolating yourself. Pushing away friends who could be close to you. You did it at your last school until you had no one. You've been doing it with everyone outside the family actually, since we found the cancer."

"It's not a big deal Dad," Namie said comfortingly. "I just don't have the time or energy to take care of more people."

"That's what scares me. You're not supposed to take care of everyone. And who's going to take care of you?"

"Well, you seem to be doing a good job right now," Namie grinned.

He gave her a look, then sighed and patted her leg. "Alright, I'll let it go for now. It's three in the morning, and we both really need more rest. You should go back to sleep."

"Ok, I'll try," she nodded. He stood up, kissed her softly on the forehead, and left with a yawn punctuated "good night".

As soon as she heard his bedroom door click shut, Namie pushed off the covers and flipped on the lights. She hadn't told her father, but the shadows had been creeping back into her dreams again, and it was getting harder and harder to sleep.

She picked up a book by her nightstand, settling down for another long night. Not so long ago, this had been the norm. So why should she bother feeling frustrated? She'd got alone fine with little sleep. Who needed phone calls? She knew better than anyone that caring for others put you at risk for an inordinate amount of pain.

OOO

A few times, Momiji found himself automatically reaching for the phone or about to walk over to Namie in class. Then he stopped himself. Deep down, he knew it was a little petulant and childish, but he didn't really care. Wasn't that what she'd accused him of being? Childlike. The memory caused a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. Whether the cause was anger at the accusation or shame at the fact her words had struck uncomfortably close to the truth, Momiji didn't care to fathom. Being read like a book was not a pleasant feeling. He was used to being the one who did the reading, not the other way around.

OOO

Something crumpled at the bottom of Namie's backpack brushed her fingers, and she pulled it out. The write-up of their history project in Momiji's loopy handwriting, with a neat, red A written at the top. Namie fingered it for a moment. It had been nice for a time at least to have some help on her homework. Her grades certainly had improved. But now they were starting to slip a little again. She'd almost let herself become dependent. _You only get stronger by working things out on your own,_ she thought. _Not depending on someone else to give you a hand._ And without another glance, Namie tossed the paper away.

OOO

Momiji picked at a bit of dried cookie dough on his sleeve. He'd gotten most of it out, but of course there was always that little bit that couldn't be gotten rid off.

"Hatori?"

Momiji poked his head out of his room. "Hi Yuki!" he called happily, when he saw his grey haired cousin. "Why aren't you at university?"

Yuki smiled back. "Hatori wanted me to come in for a check-up. How are you?"

"Very good," Momiji grinned. _You hide with that act,_ a voice in his head whispered. _Shut up_, he told it. "Hatori went out for a moment but he should be back soon."

"Ah that's alright. I'll just wait then. So what have you been up too?"

"Not much." Momiji bounded after his cousin as Yuki went into the kitchen, glad for some company. "Mostly hanging around the main house."

"Really?" Yuki filled a glass full of water and leaned against the counter, looking at him. "I thought you'd be out all the time with your girlfriend."

"My what?"

"The girl you brought to the party. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to her more. She seemed very ni—"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Momiji snapped, a bit too loudly.

Yuki peered at him over the rim of the glass, surprised. "Sorry. I just assumed. You know that most of the family thinks she is, right?"

"It has been pointed out to me yes," Momiji replied though teeth clenched in a smile. "We're just friends." A faint sigh escaped him and he couldn't help but let slip a faint, "and now not even really that."

"I'm sorry," Yuki said again, this time sympathetically. "It'll work out."

"Mmm," Momiji nodded vaguely. An idea had occurred to him. It was completely crazy, weird, and uncomfortable, but before he could stop himself the question slipped out.

"Yuki, how'd you give up on Tohru?"

Yuki started at him, bewildered. "What?"

"I mean, you and Kyo used to fight over Tohru all the time. Then suddenly you just stopped. Why?"

"Well there was the small matter of her not liking me back," Yuki said wryly. When Momiji frowned at him comically, he cocked his head. "Is this about your friend?"

Momiji looked at the toe of his sock. "No." A pause. "Someone said I'm pining after Tohru."

Yuki laughed and titled his head back, leaning against the counter in thought.

"I don't know," he said carefully. "I guess I just kind of realized that what I wanted from her wasn't really romantic." He looked at Momiji. "It's something you'll have to figure out for yourself."

"How?" Momiji pouted.

"Well, what do you think of Tohru as? A mother figure? A sister? Or a woman? Can you picture yourself with her in an actual romantic relationship?"

Momiji tried. The concept seemed a bit foreign.

"What about with your friend? Can you picture one with her?"

A flush crept up Momiji's face. "We're not—"

"I know," Yuki smiled. "I'm just trying to show you how it's different with different people. But really," he continued more earnestly, "the main thing is to not think at all. When it comes down to it, you just know. I never guessed that Machi and I would be together, but then suddenly one day I couldn't imagine anything else."

The door opened, and they heard Hatori walk into his office. Yuki pushed off from the counter and made to follow him. As he passed Momiji, Yuki reached out and patted him lightly on the arm.

"Don't worry about it Momiji, when the time comes, you'll know."

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya. Blame her for my unfinished English essay._


	14. Chapter 14 Talk

**As always, please tell me what you think.**

"Look, there he is!"

"Hey Sohma!"

As the surname could have referred to a number of people passing, Momiji didn't look over until a high-pitched voice called him directly.

"Momiji!"

Anii was dragging Jien towards him. For a second Momiji was about to ask what the two of them were doing outside the family compound, until he saw the dojo over Jien's shoulder and remembered introducing him to the classes.

"Hi Anii," Momiji said, somewhat warily, but still with a smile, as they reached him. "Jien."

"We want to talk to you," stated Anii, with such a serious expression it was cute.

"We?" Momiji glanced at Jien. He seemed to be altering between glaring daggers at Momiji and ignoring him.

"Yes." Anii tugged on Jien's hand. "Jien's just being grumpy."

"I am not," Jien said through clenched teeth. "I just think that the choice has obviously been made, and there's been enough pain."

"Which is why we should talk to Momiji." Anii turned back to face Momiji. "Namie can't sleep anymore. Again."

Momiji squashed a guilty squirm. "So?"

"We know you used to call her at night and then she would sleep better. Now she's really tired all the time and she's started having nightmares again."

That gave him another pang. "Really?"

Anii nodded solemnly. "She wakes up screaming."

Momiji sighed. "Look, I didn't do anything. I just called her 'cause it was fun to talk. I don't know why it made her sleep better."

"Because it made her feel happy and safe, you idiot," Jien answered. "Come on Anii, he's not going to listen."

"Hey!" Momiji began indignantly, without a clear idea of what he was indignant about or what he was going to say next.

Jien held up a hand to stop him and leveled his gaze at Momiji.

"Look, do whatever the hell you want. But a warning, break Namie's heart again, and I'll break your face."

Momiji blinked. "Her heart? But… I… I didn't realize—"

"Well, now you know," Jien cut across him matter-of-factly.

"You don't have to be her boyfriend if you don't want to, Momiji," added Anii. "She just needs a regular friend."

Momiji's mind was reeling. He shook his head, trying to make sense of this new information and said the only reasonable thing he could think of. "How? She's really mad at me. Any attempt to help now will seem like charity to her."

Jien shrugged. "That's your problem. Convince her it's not."

"Based on the fact her siblings are begging me to, it kind of is."

"That depends," Jien said dismissively, taking Anii's hand to lead her away.

"On what?" Momiji cried.

Jien turned back over his shoulder to level his gaze at Momiji. With the barest quirk of his eyebrow, he replied, "On whether or not you were already planning on talking to her. Or were you really going to just let her slip away? Come on Anii." And without waiting for an answer, Jien pulled Anii away, leaving Momiji alone with his thoughts.

OOO

"Hi."

Namie looked up from her homework spread out on the library table. In a moment of déjà vu, she saw Momiji standing beside her. Namie looked back down.

"I have to talk to you."

"Because it went so well the last time."

"That's why maybe we should try again."

"I don't really have much else to say."

"Can I tell you a story at least?"

That threw her. "A story?" Namie looked up at him, frowning. "What about?"

"A family. It probably doesn't make any sense but just hear me out."

There was a moment of silence. "Well go on then," Namie finally said, leaning back to watch him.

With a deep breath, Momiji started to talk. "So, once upon a time I guess, there was this family. And they had a curse on them. Whenever someone of the opposite sex…"

The words tumbled out, one after another. No names, no specifics, just the general story of what happened. Who knew if any of it made sense but Momiji found himself unable to stop. The story had been bottled up inside for so long, finally letting it out felt like a dam breaking. Namie made no comments, but she listened to the whole thing intently. When Momiji finally spluttered to an abrupt halt, running out of things to tell at the ending of the curse, she sighed and leaned forward again.

"Well," she said softly. "I don't know if I really understand the meaning, but that's quite a story." There was a long pause before her gaze flicked up to him once more.

"Why are you even bothering to talk to me Momiji?"

It was the same question as before, but this time Momiji answered with the truth. "Because you're nice and funny and smart and great to talk to and I like… I like being friends with you. And I think you like being friends with me. And I miss hanging out and talking and just seeing you, and I want us to be like that again.

Namie sized him up.

"And I'm sorry," Momiji added earnestly. "What I said wasn't fair, or really true."

She focuses on her clasped hands, then back up on Momiji. "I'm sorry too. I should know better than anyone not to push you if you don't want it."

Momiji pursed his lips and shuffled his feet. They looked at each other for a moment. For once, the pair that had been able to talk for hours couldn't think of what to say next.

"Do you want to sit down?" Namie said finally, raising an eyebrow. "Or are you just going to stand there until the bell rings?"

With a laugh, Momiji sank gratefully into the chair opposite her. He watched Namie go back to her papers, then frowned, peering more closely. Something was off in her face. "Your eyes look different."

Namie didn't look up but her voice was conversational. "The bags are coming back."

"Ah," Momiji nodded. "They're still lighter than when I first met you though." He cocked his head examining them. "Your eyes look greener when there are no bags."

Those green eyes flicked up to appraise him curiously. "Thank you," Namie said lightly.

When the bell rang, Momiji stood to silently help her gather the papers and books together. And Namie, equally as silently, let him.

OOO

That night, Momiji reached for his phone, then paused. They seemed to have made up but for the rest of the day their conversation had still been a little stilted. He didn't know if Namie would want him to call, or if would be awkward.

At that moment, the phone buzzed in his hand. He flipped it open quickly.

"Hi," the familiar voice on the other line side.

Momiji felt a genuine smile spread across his face as he relaxed into routine. "Hi Namie! I was just about to call you…"

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya._


	15. Chapter 15 Showing

**For Nano Kunitachi and Lotta Devon and animaguswolfsong and all the people who showed me they care just as much about these characters and their relationship as much as I do. Happy Thanksgiving by the way! I am always thankful for reviews. (yeah, I know that was cheesy but hey! they make me really happy ^^)**

"Hey what are you doing tomorrow after school?"

"I don't know. I have to walk Anii to a play date, but that's it. Why?"

"There's something I want to show you."

OOO

To be honest, it was a little odd walking down street with Momiji. They were friends again, but something had changed too. It was temptingly easy just to slip into the warm, fuzzy, happiness of being with Momiji, but then she would remember the fight and get a small jolt of caution. They'd each seen an uglier side of the other now, and it was hard to forget. That, and they'd both realized that the other knew a lot more about them then they'd previously thought.

Whatever the reason, Namie felt almost a little awkward following Momiji. It didn't help that he was visibly nervous and kept trailing off distractedly in their conversation. Finally when the two had run out of agreeable topics, Namie had stopped trying, and they had settled into silence.

Momiji stopped walking abruptly. Namie narrowly avoided bumping into him, then quickly looked around. Nothing seemed particularly noteworthy. A plain street, a couple of shops, and a few benches in a wide alley-turned-sitting-area.

Momiji smiled at Namie's curiosity. "We have to wait for a bit," he said, making his way over to the benches and sinking down on one.

Namie followed and sat beside him. He was definitely on edge now. Though his gaze was steady enough, fixed on something on the opposite side of the street, one of his hands tapped insistently on his leg.

Giving up on trying to see whatever Momiji watching, Namie leaned back and watched people go by sleepily. She'd slept a bit better the last few nights, probably, reluctant as she was to admit it, from the renewal of Momiji's nightly phone calls, but it still took time for the exhaustion to wear off. The warmth of the sun on Namie's face and the comfort of sitting next to Momiji was making her sleepy.

After a little while, a particularly wide yawn woke Namie from her pleasant daze. She sat forward, looking around again.

Momiji hadn't moved. Eyes still straight forward, he now seemed to be chewing lightly on his lip as his hand tapped faster and faster on his leg. It unnerved her slightly to watch him. On impulse, Namie reached out and covered his hand with her own. She didn't like seeing him so upset.

Momiji started, then looked at her with a smile. "Sorry, I should probably clam down, huh? I guess I'm just—" His eyes left her face and Momiji bolted to his feet. "There!"

Namie jumped after him, hurrying to the edge of the alley and peering around the street to see what it was. At first, nothing seemed to have changed. Then Namie noticed the small girl who'd just left the music shop across the street and to the left, carrying a black violin case with both hands.

"Who's that?" Namie asked.

Momiji never took his eyes off the girl. "That's my sister."

Namie stared at the girl, then at Momiji, then back to the girl. "Your…? I didn't know you had a sister."

He nodded faintly. "Her name's Momo."

Now Namie knew it was there, the resemblance was evident. Same yellow blond hair, same round, open face and big brown eyes. She also vividly brought to mind the picture Momiji had shown Namie of his mother.

For a moment the two watched Momo stand on the sidewalk with her big violin case. Then she turned, looking one way, then the other, down the street. As she turned in their direction, Momiji moved, not to wave or go towards his sister, as Namie expected, but away from her. In a quick step, he turned so his back was to the little girl, mostly hidden by the wall of the next building and threw out an arm to keep Namie back too.

Unaware of their presence, Momo turned and began walking down the street, away from her brother and his friend.

"Momiji," Namie wondered, with the faint stirring of trepidation. "Why are we hiding from her?"

Momiji cast one more look over his shoulder at the girl, then went back to the bench. "Because she doesn't know about me. And I'm not allowed to tell her."

A bucket of ice slid into Namie's stomach. She could only watch Momiji sit down with a dumbfounded expression.

Momiji leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped. His gaze seemed to be focused on something far in the distance.

"When I was born," Momiji began softly, still not looking at Namie, "my mother… she… she got really— depressed. Like extreme postpartum, you could say I guess. She thought I was a… a monster, and she couldn't bear to hold me or touch me, or even really look at me much. She tried, but that only made it worse. So, when I was about… six?… she had a… procedure where her—" Momiji's voice broke faintly, and he rubbed his face, "where she forgot all her memories. Of me, of her life, of everything during those years."

Namie couldn't breathe. Her heart seemed clench tighter in her chest with every word. There was no expression on Momiji's face beyond a faint line between his eyebrows as if he was trying to see something just out of sight. Namie sank slowly on to the bench next to him, as he continued talking evenly.

"It helped, though, forgetting. She had another baby, this time a girl, Momo, and it went alright. So now she can have a happy life with her husband and child. A perfect family. That's why Dad doesn't want me talking to her or Momo. Mom might remember and go back to being unhappy."

He broke off, his head bowed.

"Momiji," Namie began softly, with no idea of how to express her feelings. What could you say to something like that?

"I still see her occasionally though," Momiji went on, in a brighter tone. "When I'm at Dad's office. She thinks I'm the kid of one of the other workers, and she talks to me sometimes. Momo's with her too. Momo notices the resemblance and got curious so I have to extra careful around her."

Namie reached out hesitantly to touch his shoulder. Momiji twitched slightly at the touch, then tilted his head up to laugh.

"It's kinda funny. The only time I ever got to see her smile was when she thought I belonged to someone else." He looked back down at his clasped hands and said more softly, "Just some silly kid."

In the quiet that followed, Namie didn't move, one hand resting lightly on Momiji's shoulder, watching him. Then one, two, drops of water fell silently onto Momiji's hands. And Namie broke, pulling him towards her. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, sobs already wracking his body, as Namie felt her own cheeks grow wet.

There wasn't really any reason for them to be crying. They both knew better than anyone that tears didn't fix anything. Maybe they couldn't help just once for crying for helplessness and all they'd lost. Or maybe, it was just nice to be able to feel someone's embrace as the tears finally came.

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya._


	16. Chapter 16 Mothers

**Thank you for the kind reviews! I'm getting more excited about what's up next and I guess it makes me update faster. That and it's nice to have a break from school. Keep me posted on your thoughts please!**

And suddenly, everything was back to normal. Well, not quite normal. Namie seemed to smile more easily, and Momiji was not quite so high energy all the time, but Momiji found he didn't mind these changes. In fact, they were better, more natural.

Perfectly at easy, Momiji slid into the desk next to Namie a few days later during their break period. Namie had pulled out her math homework and was absorbed in carefully checking through her answers. When Momiji plopped down beside her, she spared a second to glance up and give him a faint smile.

"Hi," she said softly, looking back down at the numbers.

Momiji beamed back. "So I've come up with the best piece to play on the violin! It's that song they play on the radio all the time. You know, the one that goes, 'da da duh na na da!'? Anyway, I've been trying to get the tune down on my violin. It'll sound really different than on the radio but that's ok, 'cause it's still really neat and— Namie, what's wrong?"

Namie looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised by his sudden shift from bubbly to urgent. "What are you talking about?" she said mildly.

Momiji frowned, seriously. "Your eyes haven't move from that one problem since I've been here but you're not paying attention to what I'm saying either. And you've got that slightly panicked look you wear when you're trying to keep it all together."

Namie blinked, swallowed, then bowed her head back towards the book. "It's nothing," she whispered.

"Hey." Gently, Momiji placed a finger under her chin and tilted it up again so he could stare into her eyes. "It's ok. It's me."

Those green eyes suddenly filled with tears. "It didn't work," Namie's voice broke.

"What didn't?"

"The treatment. The new medication that was supposed to make Mom better." Namie brushed the hand that was still touching her chin away, but she didn't go back to hiding in her book. Instead, she stood up and started pacing the room.

"Of course," she continued, her voice rising and getting heated. "The doctors didn't say it would work. They said it 'might'. 'This _might_ work', 'that _might_ do the trick', 'there's a chance this could knock it into remission.' Might, might, might! I'm sick of this! Are they finally just going to give it up and say, 'well, we tried but that's about it I'm afraid.' Or are they going to find something that actually works!"

Momiji didn't say anything through the whole outburst. He quietly watched as Namie shouted the last word and accompanied it with a wild arm motion. She let out a frustrated breath, then the rush of anger subsided. As she sank back into her chair, she let Momiji reach out and squeeze her hand.

"When did you find out?" he asked softly.

"Yesterday afternoon," replied Namie in an exhausted and defeated voice. "Sorry for exploding."

Momiji smiled lightly. "Never apologize for letting go. I like listening. That sounding like it'd been weighing on you."

With a wet chuck, Namie wiped at a few stray tears on her cheeks. "I guess. It's just hard to vent like that at home. Everyone else it going though the same thing so I don't want to add my own anger to their troubles. And Mom's so brave and strong about the whole thing so I feel like I should be too."

"Your mom sounds tough," commented Momiji.

"She's the best," nodded Namie. "The queen of taking care of everything and keeping it together. I mean, she's got three kids and even when we would all be at our most difficult, she'd just gather us into a big hug, ignore any squirming, and plant a kiss on our heads. She always could cheer me up and we'd laugh about stuff for hours. She's got the most infectious personality."

Namie smiled in memory. "Whatever the stereotype about teenager daughters and their mothers, we were never like that. I occasionally got annoyed by her but she was still super cool and we were the best of friends." Namie shook her head. "Are. Still are."

She blinked, then looked at Momiji abruptly. "I'm sorry."

Now it was Momiji's turn to blink. "What for?"

"I— I don't want to be insensitive."

Momiji stared at her as the realization hit him. Namie though her talk about her mother would make him sad about his. She'd made the connection that no else really ever had before, and was worried about his feelings. The funny thing was, as Namie always seemed to do, she'd got it right. Her words did give him a small pang, but he didn't want her to stop.

"I don't mind," he said tried to say convincingly.

The corner of Namie's mouth twitched. "It's ok," she said softly repeating his earlier words. "It's me."

Momiji gave a faint laugh. "No, I mean…" he tilted his head back, trying to find the words to describe his feelings. "I didn't have a great childhood. I guess because of that I spent a lot of time wishing for a mother figure. That's sort of how Tohru fits into my life." Namie stiffened slightly. "My... situation is not unique to my family, and Tohru started taking care of us so she sort of became the mother figure for everyone. I still hang on her a little 'cause I still wish that kind of attention, at least a little bit."

He looked at Namie and she smiled softly.

"You know I'm not going to be another mother figure for you though, right?" she said gently.

Momiji laughed and patted her hand. "I know, and I don't want you to."

He sobered and went on, "I still miss my real mother and sister. But even though my memories of them are painful, I can't hide or forget them because their all I have of them, you know? And I don't wish a history like mine on other people. I like that you have a good mom. And I like hearing your stories about it." He smiled, "I can imagine what it would be like, and I can pretend to be a part of them."

Namie watched him kindly. His hand was still sitting on hers and she laced their fingers together.

They sat in a peaceful silence. Neither one wanted to break the untroubled atmosphere of all walls down and all masks dropped. Eventually though, Momiji couldn't hold it in any longer and decided to change the topic.

"You know, we should do something. Something where we don't have to worry and have fun!"

Namie raised an eyebrow. "Why does that sound familiar?"

Momiji stuck out his tongue at her. "This time will go better. I promise. We can go to the dance!"

"That again? Hasn't it already passed?"

"No, it's Friday."

"That's a bit last minute."

"There's enough time to find a dress and stuff!"

Namie couldn't help but let a tiny smile leak through. "Are you going to wear a dress too?"

Momiji raised his eyebrows. "If you would like me too," he said loftily. "Whatever makes the experience more fun." When Namie snorted with laughter, he lost it and grinned too. "No! I don't wear dress anymore. I'm too tall for most of them to fit. Plus I don't have the right curves. Anyway, I like wearing suits. They make me feel James Bond-ish."

Namie fell back in her chair, dissolving into giggles. Momiji watched her happily. Seeing her smile always gave him a burst of warmth in his chest. Her eyes still held a small amount of sadness though, that Momiji suddenly felt compelled to banish. A brilliant idea started to take seed in his mind.

OOO

Sitting on his bed later that evening, Momiji stared at the number he had copied onto a scrap of paper. He was suddenly very nervous. With a deep breath he quickly dialed the number.

Two rights, then a hoarse voice picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hello," Momiji replied, calmly and carefully, remembering all the lessons he'd ever been taught in etiquette. "My name is Momiji Sohma and—"

The hoarse voice chuckled. "Ah, I've been wondering if I might get a chance to speak with you."

Momiji was thrown for a second. "You know about me?"

"Of course." On the other end of the line, there was a smile in the woman's voice as, though still raspy, it grew stronger and confident. "Namie has told me much about you. It's nice to meet you Momiji Sohma. I am Yumiko Kimura, but I suppose you already know that or you wouldn't be calling. Now to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Momiji smiled too. Namie was right, she did have an infectious personality. "Well, I'd like to go to a dance with your daughter. But I have a favor to ask…"

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya._


	17. Chapter 17 Dance

**Is this excessively cheese? Yes, probably. Does it make me smile? You bet. Tell me your opinion! (Also, if you want to see the photos of Namie and Momiji before the dance, go look at the picture on my profile.)**

The news the Namie would be going to the dance with Momiji after all was greeted with great excitement in the Kimura household. Anii in particular flatly refused to let her sister pull an old piano recital dress out of the back of the closest and pestered Namie until she let Anii drag her shopping to pick out a new dress. Amused, Namie watched Anii go for the brightest fabrics with huge puffy skirts and sequins for an hour before she finally stepped in and picked a simple, less expensive cream and black dress. Despite the lack of sparkles, Anii approved and when Namie slipped it on early Friday evening, Anii decreed that it made her older sister look "just like a princess."

Namie smiled. Really, the dance and dress were worth it just to see the absolute joy on her sister's face. The little girl was almost more excited than she was. Almost. As the clock ticked nearer to Momiji's arrival, more and more butterflies were filling Namie's stomach and the only reason she wasn't jumping up and down like Anii was because she was afraid of messing up the careful knot she'd made in the back of her hair.

The only thing missing were shoes. After rummaging in the back of her closet for a while, Namie pulled out a pair of old, dusty ballet flats. They made her look more twelve than seventeen, but she didn't have anything better so they would have to do.

Until her father knocked on the door to her room with a box in his hands.

"What's that?" Anii chirped excitedly from her place on the bed.

"Oh Dad, no," Namie began to protest. "You shouldn't have. It's too much!"

"Well," he replied, coming in to join Anii on the bed and lifting off the lid of the box. "These aren't exactly new. But I thought you wouldn't mind."

Namie pulled out an elegant high-healed shoe. It was black, with satin laces that would wrap around her foot. She gasped, recognizing the shoes. She could still remember the sound of their click as she lay on her parents' bed with a six-year-old Jien, waiting for the baby sitter to come while her parents got ready for some outing.

"These are Mom's shoes," Namie murmured.

"Every princess needs a special pair of shoes," her father grinned.

At that moment, the buzzer rang. As one, the whole family jumped into a flurry of action. Jien came hurrying out of his room, and Anii leapt up from the bed and hopped around excitedly. Namie's father went to go let Momiji up while Namie balanced precariously on one foot to tie the shoes on. Fixing the last strap, Namie stood up straight.

"What do you think?" she caught Jien's eye from his perch against the doorframe.

He smiled. "Not bad."

"Princess Namie!" Anii added.

A knock on the door and voices in the hall signaled Momiji's arrival. Jien hurried to the door, and Namie could have sworn she heard something about "remember what I said" and "disembodied remains". Shaking her head with a chuckle, Namie took one more deep, calming breath, smoothed her hands over her skirt, and followed a step behind Anii out to meet Momiji.

"It's the prince!" Anii cheered as she rounded the corner.

"No, that's my cousin Yuki." Momiji caught sight of Namie and beamed. "But I am here to take the princess to the ball."

Namie smiled back, a little shyly. Momiji was wearing a dark suit with a long, thin, blue tie. His blond hair was tousled, as if he'd combed it carefully, then accidentally mussed it up somehow on the way. He looked utterly charming.

"Hang on, let me take a picture before you two go," Namie's father said, moving to get the camera.

"Oh, Dad, we don't need pictures," Namie sighed, embarrassed, but Momiji only laughed and pulled her over to stand next to him.

"You look beautiful," he whispered softly in her ear, taking in the simple, knee length cream and black edged dress. Namie grinned back, then smiled as the camera clicked a few photos of them standing next to each other.

"So you two are going to eat dinner first then go straight to the dance, correct?" Namie's father said, peaking over the camera.

"Yes, sir," Momiji replied. "And I'll make sure Namie gets home by 11."

"Dinner?" Namie looked at Momiji in surprise.

"Of course, the dance doesn't start until 8, silly," Momiji said playfully.

"Where are we eating?"

Momiji exchanged a glance with Namie's, then gave her a positively gleeful look. "It's a surprise."

Namie opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Momiji took her hand and pulled her towards the door.

"Wait a second," her dad called. Namie looked over her shoulder to see him raise the camera again. "Just a few more."

"But—," she began, laughing, then with a "have a nice time kids" from her father, a "bye! have fun!" from Anii, a rare grin and wave from Jien, and an excited "let's go!" from Momiji, they were out the door.

OOO

"So," Namie turned to Momiji when they were outside the building. "Where are we going?"

Momijij winked and pulled a strip of cloth out of his pocket. "I told you, it's a surprise!"

"Oh no!" Namie backed away as Momiji held out what she now recognized as a blindfold. "You are not going to cover my eyes!"

"Aw, come on! It'll be worth it, I promise." He paused, then gave her an earnest look. "Do you trust me?"

Namie glared at him and sighed. "Fine."

Riding the bus blindfolded was an odd experience. Namie could only imagine what the other passengers thought, but after Momiji carefully helped her up the step he announced that he was "trying to make a special surprise so could you please not say the stops aloud?", the bus driver just laughed and said, "Sure, whatever kid."

As they sat together, Namie tried to keep scowling at the fact that Momiji seemed to have thought of every possible way she could foil his plan. It was hard though, since he had not let go of her hand since leading her onto the bus, and it was always hard to be surly when she was sitting next to him. So Namie resigned herself to the mysterious surprise.

After going who knew how far, Momiji finally stood, tugging at her hand.

"This is us!" he chirped.

Namie followed carefully, trying not to trip on the unseen seats and people. When she got near to the stairs she pause, unsure of where to step.

"Here, I got you," she heard Momiji's voice, then felt two warm hands suddenly grasp her around the waist and lift her up.

So startled, Namie could only let out a small squeak before her feet touched down on the curb. Her face immediately grew hot. Momiji only laughed, letting go and looping her arm in his.

Namie turned her face away, trying to hide the blush and unconscious pulled his arm a little closer. Wherever they were walking had quite a few trees. She could hear the wind rustling through the branches, and there was recently cut grass and flowers off somewhere to the right.

"Are we eating in a park?" Namie frowned. "Won't it get dark before we could finish a picnic?"

Momiji chuckled again. "It is a picnic of sorts, but it's not outside. We're just going into the building now."

An automatic door whooshed open, and they stepped inside. Namie became very quiet. There was a faint smell of antiseptic, and far off beeps and squeaky footsteps echoed down a long hall. It was all too familiar, but they could really be where she thought they were, could they?

"Momiji," she began softly, but he cut her off with a gentle "shh, almost there".

Up an elevator and down another hall and around a corner. Momiji was murmuring to himself.

"23, 24, it'd be great if I forgot the directions now. Ah! Here!"

He stopped, let go of Namie's arm, pushed her forward a little, and untied the blindfold.

They were in the doorway of a tiny room. Twinkle lights had been hung on the wall and there was a round table with a checkered tablecloth, a basket of food, and flowers crammed into a corner. Someone had obviously tried very hard to make it resemble a restaurant. Namie gasped, eyes roving over the decorations before finally settling on the bed that took up most of the room and, specifically, the woman sitting up in it.

She was very thin, with a gaunt face and no hair, but she beamed at Namie and Momiji and her green eyes sparkled.

"Welcome to the Restaurant de Hospital Room. I'll be your host this evening. Hey, those wouldn't be my shoes now would they?"

Namie gave a watery laugh, then hugged Momiji tightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Surprise," he said softly in her ear.

Namie blinked hard, Anii would kill her if she ruined her makeup now, and couldn't stop beaming as Momiji started unpacking sandwiches and pulled up two chairs next to her mother's bed so that she could chat animatedly with the two of them as they ate.

OOO

Crepe paper streamers and balloons in a school gym might not be the most sophisticated of venues, but with the dim, colored lights and upbeat music, and Namie swaying absentmindedly next to him, Momiji thought it was perfect.

He turned to look at her, only to find that she was regarding him intently.

"What?" he smiled.

Namie smiled back lightly but her green eyes stayed thoughtful. "How long did it take you to plan that?

Momiji cocked his head. "I don't know. I just thought that you might want your mom to see you of to the dance too, and it kind of went from there."

Namie shook her head with a laugh.

"You're the sweetest, you know that right?" she said. "Now I have to think of something to do that will make you happy in return."

Momiji beamed. "Seeing you smile makes me happy," he said honestly. "Even more if you're smiling because of me."

The smile on Namie's faded a little, though her eyes were still bright. Momiji realized how close they had come to be standing. A lock of Namie's hair was undone, and Momiji reached out and slowly brushed it behind her ear. Namie didn't move away at the touch, instead her face softened as she continued to stare at him.

There was a crash from behind them and they both jumped. A student had tripped over a pile of sports equipment on the edge of the gym. Momiji and Namie turned back to each other, laughing, but the moment was broken.

"So," Namie said with a teasing note in her voice. "Just to make sure, there aren't going to be any more surprises though, are there?"

"Well there is one more," reply Momiji seriously.

Namie raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"That I'm not a very good dancer."

Namie snorted as Momiji grinned. "It's not that hard. You just have to bounce to the music."

"Well," Momiji said. "I think you should demonstrate."

"Fine," teased Namie, grabbing his hand and pulling him after her towards where other students were dancing. "But you have to do it too."

As they reached an open spot, the upbeat pop song ended and switched abruptly into a softer, slow one. Namie blinked at the nearest speaker in surprise.

"Oh, never mind. Slow song," she said, turning to return to their previous spot.

Momiji didn't move. Namie looked back at him, both their arms extended, her hand still tight in his.

"May I have this dance?" Momiji said softly.

Namie nodded and without a word stepped closer. Momiji gently placed his free hand on her waist, while she rested hers lightly on his chest. After a moment of awkward shuffling, they fell into a rhythm of swaying back and forth. Green eyes met brown ones. Momiji gave a shy smile and Namie flushed a little and looked back down at their clasped hands. For some reason, Momiji found himself inexplicably nervous. He was just dancing with Namie, his pulse didn't have to be going quite that fast.

Without meaning to, their swaying seemed to be bringing them closer and closer together. Momiji suddenly realized that his arm was wrapped entirely around Namie's waist, and her head was almost touching his shoulder. Then she lean forward slightly and rested her cheek against his chest. Not for the first time, Momiji marveled at how she fit there perfectly. His heart was still pounding steadily, and he wondered if she could hear it through his chest. Giving up on holding her hand, Momiji let go of her hand and held her tightly with both arms, leaning his own cheek against her forehead smiling contentedly. Namie's arms wrapped around Momiji in return, and the two continued to sway with the soft music together.

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya._


	18. Chapter 18 Goodnight

"You know, you live near school," Namie said, settling into the bus seat and folding her cream dress around her legs. "You don't have to escort me home."

"Nope, I'm coming. Jien would kill me if anything happened to you." Momiji plopped down in the seat in front of her so they could both stretch out sideways.

Namie rolled her eyes. "So that's what he was saying. I wondered."

"Among other things," Momiji murmured vaguely. "But I'd be sad too if you got hurt."

Namie contemplated him.

"Do you really want me to go?" he sighed.

"No," Namie conceded with a slow smile. Momiji grinned back.

"Besides, I have to make sure you don't drop your shoe and you get home before the bus turns back into a pumpkin."

"So I'm Cinderella?" Namie raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Anii did say you were a princess."

"What does that make you then, in the fairytale? The rabbit prince?"

Momiji frowned at her. "The what?"

"Like the frog prince, but he turns into a rabbit."

"I like that," he nodded. "But I'm already human. No one's kissed me!"

"Maybe it's backward, you turn into a rabbit when kissed. Like your story about the zodiac."

Momiji leaned his head back against the window and laughed until his sides hurt. "I never thought of it that way," he said when he finally got his breath back.

Namie grinned in return.

"So," Momiji began more seriously, after a pause, "what'd you think? Did you have fun?"

Namie smiled at him warmly. "Yes," she murmured. "You?"

"Yeah," Momiji said softly, beaming.

The bus squeaked to a halt. The two friends hopped off and started walking down the pavement, breath coming out in puffs in the night air.

"You look cold," Momiji said, noting the goose bumps dotting Namie's arms. "Here, take my coat."

"No!" Namie protested as he started to shrug out of his jacket. "Then you'll be cold!"

"I'm wearing more clothing than you," replied Momiji astutely and draped the coat around her shoulders. Namie pursed her lips, then tugged it a little tighter, turning her head as if to hide her tiny smile.

"And," Momiji went on, "I'm the rabbit prince. I have bunny fur to keep me warm." He wrinkled up his nose and pretended to hop down the sidewalk.

"You certainly are an animal at least," Namie chuckled.

Their laughter echoed across the empty street as they passed underneath lamp after lamp, throwing their faces into shadows and making Namie's eye shine. Momiji couldn't stop grinning, a glow warming him from inside. Everything was absolutely perfect.

But all good things have to end. All too soon, they reached the door to Namie's building.

"Well," she said turning to face Momiji.

"Well," he mimicked her voice, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Thanks you for the wonderful night," Namie smiled.

"You're welcome. Thank _you_."

Silence spiraled around them as they stood looking at each other. Momiji felt that he wanted to do something, to say something more, but he wasn't sure how to proceed. His stomach was tying itself into knots as her green gaze bored into his and his heart was going fast again. He seemed to be having some trouble thinking properly, or even breathing.

Then suddenly, Namie took charge of the situation. She grabbed his shirt in a fist, pulled him close and kissed him on the lips.

It was soft and very short, but before she could even finish letting go and stepping back, Momiji had one hand on her hips, pulling her back to him, and the other cupping her face and raising it to his. This time the kiss was longer, as his arms slid around her waist and the back of her neck and her fingers got tangled in his hair, both pressing as close as they could.

As the kiss went on, Momiji only had enough mind space for two thoughts: One, Yuki was right. You just _knew_. And two, it was actually kind of difficult to kiss and smile at the same time, but Momiji didn't seem to be able to stop doing either.

OOO

"When I said don't break her heart this isn't exactly what I meant."

At the sound of Jien's wry voice, Momiji and Namie leapt apart. He was standing in the doorway with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, and Anii behind him beamed at them with wide eyes.

Namie cleared her throat awkwardly while Momiji ran a hand through his hair. Her face was flushed, and Momiji could feel the color rising in his own. He couldn't stop a small embarrassed smile though, and Namie was struggling too with giddy laughter.

"What—" she began, hurriedly, turning to her siblings, "what are you doing down here?"

"We saw you coming down the street," Anii chirped.

"And we were wondering what was taking you so long," finished Jien, still smirking. "I guess we know now."

"What's going on?" Now Namie's father appeared behind Anii.

"That's it," Namie pushed through the door, grabbed Jien's hand and dragging him and Anii up the stairs. "Come on, it's late. Upstairs. Now."

"Aw, but what about the show down here?" Jien mock whined while Anii giggled.

"Shut up!" Momiji watched amused as Namie succeeded in forcing her siblings up, out of sight.

"I—" her father began, watching the proceedings with bewilderment. "Well," he turned to Momiji. "Did you two have a nice night?"

"Yes, sir," he said, trying not to laugh. "Very much."

"That's good." Namie's father replied distractedly, leaning back to look up the stairs. "I should go make sure they don't injure each other. Thank you Momiji. Have a safe trip home."

"You are very welcome sir," Momiji grinned.

_Thank goodness for fathers who come in and tell everyone to calm down and go to their rooms,_ Namie thought as everything quieted abruptly, and she was left alone in the sitting room. It was then that she suddenly remembered poor Momiji.

Smiling at the familiar gesture, she quickly pulled out her phone and dialed Momiji's number.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry."

There was a smile in Momiji's voice. "For what?"

"I left you at the door."

A hint of laughter. "You were busy."

"I forgot to say good night."

There was a pause. "Look out the window."

Namie moved to one of the windows, phone still pressed against her ear. Down below, there was a figure standing on the other side of the street, his arm in the same position as hers. Namie smiled, and Momiji beamed up at her.

There was suddenly so much Namie wanted to say. But as she looked down at him, she realized that she didn't have to say it now. There would be plenty of time for talking tomorrow, and the day after and the day after, face to face, or on the phone. So for now, Namie didn't say anything. Only raised her hand and pressed it flat against her chest, just over her heart. Momiji seemed to get the message though, because his goofy smile changed into a warmer, more incredulous one that crinkled up his eyes. And he raised his hand to his lips then pointed up at her.

"Goodnight Namie. Sleep tight," he said softly.

"Goodnight," she replied, and they hung up as he turned to start walking up the street.

Namie stayed where she was through, reaching out to touch the glass so she could watch him as he moved farther out of sight.

"Goodnight," she whispered again. "Sweet dreams Momiji Sohma."

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya._


	19. Chapter 19 Epilogue

_Some Time Later_

Two people, a young man and a young woman, were talking in a tiny kitchen. One was seated at the table, laughing, while the other bounced excitedly back and forth around the room.

"Calm down!" the young man laughs, grabbing the girl as she passes and pulling her to stand in front of his seat. He stares at her with a mock serious expression. "Deep breathes."

"You're one to talk," she says with a wry grin.

"I suppose," he replies. "On second thought, don't calm down."

The young woman raises an eyebrow, unsuccessfully suppressing her smile. "Why?"

The young man grins widely. " 'Cause it's entertaining."

As the she laughs, he tugs on her hand that he's still holding, and she leans down a few inches to kiss him.

"Hey Namie, Momiji!" a high pitched voice calls out of the next room and a little girl goes running past in the hall. "Stop making out! They're here!"

The couple breaks apart, still laughing. The boy gives the girl one more light kiss on the lips, then jumps up excitedly.

"Come on, come on!" he says.

"Now who's the excited one?" she chuckles

He sticks his tongue out at her.

The two of them join the little girl and the teenage boy whose grinning face clashes with his dark clothes, just as the door opens. A man pushes inside with a suitcase, but the crowd in the hall only has eyes for the person behind him.

The woman is thin and pale, and there is a green scarf around her head that goes with her eyes. In a small patch where the cloth is slipping, one can just see the faint fuzz of hair growing back. As she crosses the threshold, the little girl and teenage boy cheer and swarm her in enormous hugs.

The young woman hangs back, almost nervously, her hand still in the young man's. Then the woman looks up at her and holds out her arms. The young woman lets go and runs into the embrace, holding the woman tightly.

"Welcome home, Mom" she whispers. "We missed you."

"It's good to be home," the woman whispered back, kissing her on the forehead.

The little girl tugs on the woman's hand, and they move towards the kitchen, followed by the teenage boy and the man still carrying the suitcase.

As they go, the young woman stays and looks to the young man, who had watched the proceedings with a wide smile. She smiled back, and he moved forward, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, with a contented sigh.

He bent to her ear. "I love you," he whispered.

She tilted her head back and beamed at him. "I love you too," she murmured back as she hugged him around the middle. And, still holding each other, they followed the others into the kitchen.

In life, nothing ever begins or ends. It is only a series of moments, connected by the bonds one makes, and the love one finds.

**The hardest story to write is your own. And, though mine is not the same as Namie's, it's close enough to make it difficult. I don't get to have a sweet rabbit-boy to help me though, but I do have great friends and awesome reviewers. So thanks to Lotta Devon, Nano Kunitachi, Takara Rose Oizumi, and everyone else who gave me support and helped me though. And thanks to you, if you have taken the time to read my little story.**

_Disclaimer: Fruit's Basket and its characters belong to Natsuki Takaya._


	20. Sequel

**Thank you for the support. Namie and Momiji's story will now be continued in And Ever Onward. **


End file.
